Homilies and Sermons 10.1–10.6

As with medical prescriptions, when they are given skilfully and according to the principles of the art, their benefit is shown above all after experience, so with spiritual exhortations: when the commands receive the outcome that bears witness to them, then their wisdom and usefulness for the correction of life and the perfection of those who obey become plain. For we heard the Proverbs declaring expressly that "anger destroys even the prudent"; we heard also the apostle's exhortations, "Let all anger and wrath and clamor be put away from you, with all malice"; and the Lord saying that the one who is angry with his brother without cause is liable to judgment. But now that we have had experience of the passion, not arising in ourselves but falling upon us from outside like an unexpected squall, now especially we have recognized the wonderful quality of the divine commands. Giving way to anger ourselves, as one gives a violent stream an outlet, and observing quietly the unseemly turmoil of those gripped by the passion, we have recognized in the event the aptness of the saying that "a wrathful man is not seemly." For once the passion has thrust aside the reasonings and taken over the government of the soul, it turns the man completely into a beast and does not even allow him to be a man, since he no longer has the help of reason. For what venom is to venomous creatures, rage becomes to those who are provoked. They rave like dogs, dart like scorpions, bite like snakes. Scripture too knows how to call those mastered by the passion by the names of the beasts they have made themselves like through their wickedness: it calls them dumb dogs, snakes, brood of vipers, and the like. For those who are ready for destruction of one another and for [harm against] … would be numbered among [the wild beasts], which have by nature an irreconcilable hatred toward men. Through rage come unbridled tongues and unguarded mouths, uncontrolled hands, insults, reproaches, slanders, blows, and the rest, which one could not even count: these are the offspring of anger and rage. Through rage the sword is sharpened; the death of a man by a human hand is dared. Through it brothers have not recognized one another, and parents and children have forgotten nature. For the angry first do not know themselves, and then all their friends together. As torrents, pouring together into hollows, sweep away whatever they meet, so the violent and unrestrainable impulses of the angry go through everything alike. Gray hair is not respected by the enraged, nor virtue of life, nor kinship, nor past favors, nor anything else that is honored. Rage is a short madness. They often throw themselves into evident harm, neglecting their own interests in their eagerness for revenge. Goaded as by a gadfly by the memory of those who have pained them, with their rage boiling and leaping, they do not stop until they have done some harm to the one who provoked them, or perhaps received some besides, if it so happens; as often things violently dashed down suffer more than they inflict on hard surfaces.

[2] Who could do justice to this evil? How those quick to rage, kindled on any pretext, shouting and raging and attacking more shamelessly than any venomous creature, do not stop until the inflammation finds vent through some great and incurable evil, when their anger bursts like a bubble. Neither a sword's edge nor fire nor anything else fearful is enough to restrain a soul maddened by anger, any more than it restrains those possessed by demons, from whom the angry differ in nothing, either in appearance or in the disposition of the soul. For in those who long to pay back pain, the blood boils around the heart, as if stirred and bubbling under the force of fire; and blooming on the surface, it shows the angry man in another form, changing the face familiar and known to all like a mask on the stage. Their own familiar eyes are no longer recognized; the gaze is wild and already looks fire. And he whets his teeth like boars closing in combat. His face is livid, [the veins] bursting, the breath shaken by the storm within. The voice is harsh and strained, and speech inarticulate and blurted out at random, not proceeding in order, nor coherently, nor clearly. And when he is kindled to the incurable point by those who provoke him, like a flame by abundant fuel, then indeed one may see sights neither speakable in words nor bearable in fact: hands raised against one's own kind and brought down on every part of the body, feet trampling unsparingly on the most vital parts, everything that comes to hand becoming a weapon for the madness. And if they find on the other side the same evil arrayed against them, another anger and equal madness, then they close and do and suffer to each other all that those led by such a demon may be expected to suffer. For combatants have often carried off maimed limbs or even death as prizes of anger. One began unjust violence, the other retaliated; one struck back, the other did not give way. The body is cut by the blows, but rage takes away the sense of pain. For they have no leisure to perceive what they have suffered, since their whole soul is [bent] on revenge against the one who has pained them.

[3] Do not, then, heal evil with evil, nor try to outdo one another in misfortunes. For in wicked contests the victor is the more wretched, because he goes away with more of the sin. Do not be one who pays in full a contribution of evil, nor of a wicked loan. [If someone has insulted you in anger, cover] the evil with silence. But you, receiving his anger into your own heart like a stream, imitate the winds, which return what is borne against them by blowing back. Do not use your enemy as a teacher, and do not emulate what you hate. Do not become like a mirror of the angry man, showing his form in yourself. He is red; are you not crimsoned? His eyes are bloodshot; do yours, tell me, look calm? His voice is harsh; is yours gentle? Not even the echo in deserts returns so exactly to the speaker … Or rather the echo is returned the same, but abuse comes back with interest. For what do they say to each other as they insult one another? One said, "Nobody, and son of nobodies"; the other called him "[slave], and son of a slave"; this one "ignorant," that one "crazy," until, having slung every abuse from their tongues, they go on to revenge by deeds. For rage stirs up fighting, fighting begets abuse, abuse blows, blows wounds, and from wounds often deaths. Let us check the evil from its first beginning, removing anger from our souls by every means. For so we could cut out with this passion, as with a root and beginning, most of our evils. Has he abused you? Bless. Has he struck you? Endure. Does he spit on you and count you nothing? Consider yourself, that you were formed from earth and will be dissolved into earth again. One who has fortified himself beforehand with these thoughts will find every dishonor less than the truth. So you will also make revenge impossible for your enemy, showing yourself invulnerable to abuse, and you will procure for yourself a great crown of endurance, making another's madness an occasion for your own philosophy. So, if you listen to me, you will even add to the insults. Has he called you obscure, without reputation, a nobody from nowhere? Call yourself earth and ashes. You are not more dignified than our father Abraham, who called himself these. Ignorant, poor, worth nothing? Call yourself a worm, and say you come from the dunghill, using the words of David. Add to these the fine example of Moses. Abused by Aaron and Miriam, he did not appeal to God against them but prayed for them. Whose disciple would you rather be: of these blessed men, dear to God, or of those filled with the spirit of wickedness? When the temptation of abuse is stirred up against you, consider that you are being judged whether you draw near to God by long-suffering or run off to the adversary by anger. Give your reasonings time to choose the good portion. Either you have helped him somewhat by the example of meekness, or you have avenged yourself more severely by disregard. For what could be more painful to an enemy than to see his enemy above insults? Do not lower your mind, nor allow yourself to be reached by those who insult you. Let him bark at you to no effect; let him burst by himself. For as one who strikes someone who feels no pain punishes himself (for he has neither avenged himself on his enemy nor rested his rage), so one who reproaches someone who does not return abuse cannot find relief for his passion. On the contrary, as I said, he is even sawn apart within. For straight away, from what has happened, what are you each called? He a slanderer, you great-souled; he irascible and harsh, you long-suffering and gentle. He will repent of what he said; you will never regret your virtue.

Why say more? Abuse shut the one out of the kingdom of heaven, for "abusers [will not inherit the kingdom of God]"; but silence [procures] the kingdom [for the other]. For "he who endures to the end will be saved." But if you retaliate and set yourself up equally against the abuser, what defence will you make? That he provoked you by starting it? And what pardon does that deserve? Neither is the fornicator judged less deserving of condemnation for shifting the blame to the courtesan as having provoked him to sin. There are neither crowns without competitors, nor falls without opponents. Hear David saying: "When the sinner stood against me," not "I was provoked," nor "I retaliated," but "I was dumb and humbled, and kept silent even from good." But you are provoked by abuse as by something bad, and imitate it again as something good. For see, you have done what you accuse. Or do you look carefully at another's evil, but never take account of your own disgrace? Is insult wicked? Flee imitating it. For the other's having started it is not enough for an excuse. Rather, as I persuade myself, it is more just that your indignation be increased, because he did not have an example to bring him to his senses, but you, seeing the angry man disgracing himself, did not guard against becoming like him, but are vexed and furious and angry in return; and your passion becomes a defence for the one who began. For by what you do you acquit him and condemn yourself. For if rage is wicked, why did you not avoid the evil? And if it deserves pardon, why are you harsh to the one who is enraged? So, if you came second to the retaliation, this will not help you. For in the contests for crowns, it is not the one who began the bout but the one who prevails who is crowned. So not only the one who led the way to the evil is condemned, but also the one who followed a wicked leader into sin. If he calls you poor, if he speaks the truth, accept the truth; if he lies, what is what he says to you? Do not be puffed up by praises beyond the truth, nor [irritated] by insults that do not touch you. Do you not see arrows, how [they pierce hard things] but lose their force in soft and yielding ones? Think the same of abuse. One who resists receives it into himself; but one who yields and gives way dissolves, by the softness of his character, the wickedness borne against him. Why does the name of poor man trouble you? Remember your own nature: that you came into the world naked, and naked you will depart. And what is poorer than the naked? You have heard nothing terrible, unless you appropriate to yourself … … what was said. Who was ever led to prison for poverty? It is not being poor that is shameful, but not bearing poverty nobly. Remember the Master, that "though he was rich, he became poor for us." If he calls you foolish and ignorant, remember the insults of the Jews with which they abused true Wisdom: "You are a Samaritan and have a demon." If then you become angry, you have confirmed the reproaches; for what is more foolish than anger? But if you remain without anger, you have shamed the one who insulted you, showing self-control in deed. Were you slapped? So too was the Lord. Were you spat on? So was our Master; for he "did not turn away his face from the shame of spitting." Were you slandered? So too was the Judge. Did they tear your tunic? They stripped my Lord too [and divided his garments by lot]. You have not yet been condemned; you have not yet been crucified. You lack much before you come to imitate him.

[5] Let each of these thoughts steal into your mind and calm the inflammation. For such preparations and dispositions, taking away the leaps and palpitations of the heart, bring the reasonings back to stability and calm. And this is what David meant: "I was prepared and was not troubled." We must, then, calm the mad and frenzied movement of the soul by the memory of the examples of the blessed men. [Remember how David bore the] drunken abuse of Shimei. For he gave no opportunity for anger to be stirred, turning his thought to God: "The Lord," he says, "told Shimei to curse David." Therefore, hearing himself called "man of blood" and "lawless man," he was not harsh with him, but humbled himself, as though the insult met him according to his deserts. Take away from yourself these two things: neither judge yourself worthy of great things, nor think any man far inferior to you in worth. So rage will never rise up at the dishonors brought upon us. It is terrible that one who has been benefited and is indebted for the greatest favors should, besides being ungrateful, begin insult and dishonor. Terrible, but a greater evil for the one who does it than for the one who suffers it. Let him insult; but do not you insult. Let his words be an exercise for you in philosophy. If you are not stung, you are unwounded. And if you do suffer something in your soul, hold the pain in yourself. "My heart was troubled within me," he says; that is, the passion did not spread outward, but like a wave broken within the shores … Calm for me your barking and raging heart. Let the passions respect the appearance of reason in you, as the disorder among children respects the presence of a venerable man.

How then could we escape the harm of being angry? If we persuade rage not to anticipate the reasonings, but take care of this first, that it never runs ahead of the mind; and if we have it like a horse yoked to us, obedient to reason as to a bridle, never leaving its proper place, but led by reason wherever it directs. For the spirited part of our soul is still useful for many works of virtue, when, like a soldier who has laid his arms before his general, it readily supplies help for what is commanded and is an ally of reason against sin. For rage is the sinew of the soul, giving it vigor for resistance on behalf of the good. For if it ever finds the soul unstrung by pleasure, it [hardens it] as tempering hardens iron, and [makes it strong instead of] slack and relaxed. For unless you are enraged against the evil one, you cannot hate him as much as he deserves. For I think one must have equal zeal for the love of virtue and the hatred of sin. For this rage is especially useful, when, like a dog with a shepherd, rage follows reason, staying gentle and tame to those who help, and easily called back by reason, growing fierce at a stranger's voice and appearance even if he seems to offer kindness, but [cowering] when its familiar friend calls out. This is the best and most measured cooperation of the spirited part with the prudent part of the soul. For [such a one is a guardian], never accepting friendship with what harms, but always barking at and tearing treacherous pleasure like a wolf. Such is the benefit of rage for those who know how to handle it. For each of the other powers too becomes evil or good to its possessor according to the manner of its use. For example, with the desiring part of the soul, one who uses it for the enjoyment of the flesh and impure pleasures is abominable and licentious, while one who turns it to the love of God and the longing for [eternal things is enviable and blessed]. Again, one who handles the reasoning part well is prudent and understanding; but one who has sharpened his mind to harm his neighbors is a knave and a villain.

Let us not, then, make the things given us by the Creator for our salvation an occasion of sin for ourselves. So too rage, moved when it should and as it should, produces courage, endurance and self-control; but acting against right reason, it becomes madness. That is why the psalm too admonishes us: "Be angry, and do not sin." And the Lord threatens judgment against the one who is angry [with his brother] without cause; but to use anger on what one ought, as a kind of medicine, he does not forbid. For "I will put enmity between you and the serpent," and "Be hostile to the Midianites," are the words of one who teaches us to use rage as a weapon. That is why Moses, the meekest of all men, avenging the idolatry, armed the hands of the Levites to kill their brothers: "[Put every man his sword] on his thigh, and go through from gate to gate, and return through the camp; and kill each his brother, and each his neighbor, and each his nearest kin." And a little after: "And Moses said: You have filled your hands today for the Lord, each one against his son and against his brother, so that a blessing may be given to you." And what justified Phinehas? Was it not his just anger against those who committed sexual immorality? He, though mostly gentle and meek, when he saw the immorality of Zimri and the Midianite woman done openly and shamelessly, without their even covering the unseemly sight of their shame, could not bear it, but used his rage as he ought, driving the spear through both. And did not [Samuel], by just anger, bring into the midst and kill Agag the king of Amalek, whom Saul had spared against God's command? So rage often becomes the servant of good actions. And Elijah the zealous put to death four hundred and fifty men, priests of shame, and four hundred men, priests of the groves, who ate at Jezebel's table, with considered and self-controlled rage, for the benefit of all Israel. But you are angry with your brother without cause. For how is it not without cause, when one is at work and you are harsh to another? You do the same as dogs, which bite the stones, not touching the one who throws them. The one who is driven is to be pitied; the one who drives is to be hated. Transfer your rage there, to the murderer, the father of lies, the worker of sin; but have compassion on your brother, because if he persists in sin he will be handed over with the devil to the eternal fire.

As the names of rage and anger differ, so too the things they signify differ greatly from each other. For rage is a kind of kindling and sharp fuming of the passion; anger is a lasting grief and a persistent impulse to pay back those who have wronged us, as if the soul were swelling for revenge. We must know, then, that men offend in both dispositions: either moved madly and frenziedly against those who provoke them, or lying in wait craftily and treacherously for those who have grieved them; both of which we must guard against …

[7] How then could the passion not be moved toward what it should not? How? If you are trained beforehand in humility, which the Lord both commanded in word and showed in deed: now saying, "Whoever would be first among you, let him be last of all," now bearing gently and unmoved with the one who struck him. For the Maker and Master of heaven and earth, worshipped by all creation intelligible and sensible, who "upholds all things by the word of his power," did not send him alive to Hades, with the earth splitting under the impious man, but admonishes and teaches him: "If I have spoken wrongly, bear witness about the wrong; but if rightly, why do you strike me?" For if you accustom yourself to be last of all according to the Lord's commandment, when will you be indignant as if insulted beyond your worth? When a little child abuses you, you make his abuse an occasion of laughter; and when someone deranged by frenzy utters words of dishonor, you think him pitiable rather than hateful. So it is not the words that naturally stir up griefs, but our contempt for the one who abuses us and each one's opinion of himself. So if you take both of these out of your mind, what is said is mere noise echoing emptily. "Cease from anger and forsake rage," that you may escape the experience of the wrath "that is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men." For if by self-controlled reasoning you can cut out the bitter root of rage, you will destroy many passions along with this beginning. For guile and suspicion, faithlessness and malice, treachery and rashness, and the whole swarm of such wicked things are shoots of this vice. Let us not, then, bring so great an evil upon ourselves: a sickness of soul, a darkening of reasonings, estrangement from God, ignorance of kinship, the beginning of war, the fullness of misfortunes, a wicked demon born in our very souls and, like a shameless inmate, taking possession of our inner parts beforehand and shutting out the entrance to the Holy Spirit. For where there are enmities, strifes, rages, rivalries, contentions, producing ceaseless [disturbances] in souls, there the Spirit of meekness does not rest. But persuaded by the exhortation of the blessed Paul, let us put away from us all anger and wrath and clamor with all malice, and become kind and tenderhearted to one another, waiting for the blessed hope promised to the meek ("for blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth"), in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and might for ever. Amen.