Homilies on 2 Corinthians 10.1–10.4

“For we know that if the earthly house of our tent is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”

Again he rouses their eagerness, because many temptations were coming upon them. For it was likely that through his absence they had become weaker in this respect. What then does he say? “We must not wonder that we suffer ill, nor be troubled; for we reap many gains from it.” Some he mentioned earlier: that we carry about the dying of Jesus, and give the greatest proof of his power (“so that the surpassing greatness of the power,” he says, “may be of God”), and bring forward a clear token of the resurrection (“so that the life of Jesus,” he says, “may be manifested in our mortal flesh”). And since besides these he had said that our inner man too becomes better in this way (“for even if our outer man is wasting away, [the inner is renewed] day by day”), showing again that being scourged and persecuted is so useful, he goes on to say that when this is complete, then countless goods will spring up for those who have endured these things. “So that you may not grieve, hearing that your outer man is wasting away,” he says, “when this happens completely, then above all you will rejoice and come to a better lot. So not only must you not grieve that it is partly wasting away now, but you must even seek the whole of this decay; for it leads you above all to incorruption.” That is why he added, “For we know that if the earthly house of our tent is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” For since he again exercises his argument about the resurrection, in which they were especially sick, he takes in the judgment of his hearers too, and so establishes it; but not as before, … but as coming to it from another subject; for they had already been corrected. And he says, “We know that if the earthly house of our tent is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Some say that the earthly house is this world; but I would rather say that he is hinting at the body. And see how by the names he shows the superiority of things to come over present ones. Having said “earthly,” he set against it the heavenly; having said “house of a tent,” and so shown its easy dissolution and temporariness, he set against it the eternal; for the word “tent” often shows what is temporary. That is why he says, “In my Father’s house are many dwelling places.” And if he anywhere calls the resting places of the saints tents, it is not simply tents but with an addition; for he did not say, “that they may receive them into their tents,” but “into the eternal tents.” And by saying “not made with hands,” he hinted at what is made with hands. What then? Is the body made with hands? Not at all; but either he is hinting here at houses made with hands, or, if not this, he called the body that is not made with hands a house of a tent. For he did not set it against this by way of contrast, but increasing the praises and adding to the commendation.

“For in this we groan, longing to put on our dwelling from heaven.” What dwelling, tell me? The incorruptible body. And why do we groan now? Because that is much better. He says it is “from heaven” because of its incorruption. For surely a body does not come down to us from above; but by this name he means the grace sent from there. “So far, then, must we be from grieving at partial temptations that we must even seek the whole”; as if he said, “Do you groan because you are persecuted, because your outer man wastes away? Groan rather because this does not happen to the full, and it does not waste away completely.” Do you see how he turned the argument to the opposite, showing that they must groan over these things not happening completely, over which they groaned when they happened partly? That is why he no longer calls it a tent, but a dwelling, and very rightly. For a tent is easily taken down, but that remains forever. “If indeed, when we have put it on, we shall not be found naked.” That is, even if we lay aside the body, we shall not stand there without a body, but with the same one become incorruptible. But some say—and this is especially to be approved—“If indeed, having put it on, we shall not be found naked.” For so that not all might take confidence from the resurrection, he says, “if indeed, having put it on,” that is, having received incorruption and an incorruptible body, “we shall not be found naked” of glory and safety. This he said in the letter to the Corinthians before this one too: “We shall all rise, but each in his own order”; and, “There are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies.” For the resurrection is common to all, but the glory is no longer common; some will rise in honor and others in dishonor, some to a kingdom and others to punishment. This he showed here too, saying, “If indeed, having put it on, we shall not be found naked.” “For we who are in this tent groan, because we do not wish …”

[“… to be unclothed, but to be further clothed.”] Here again he completely and clearly stopped the mouths of the heretics, showing that he is not speaking simply of one body and another, but of corruption and incorruption. “For we do not groan for this,” he says, “to be rid of the body (for we do not even wish to put it off), but we are eager to be freed from the corruption in it.” That is why he says, “We do not wish to put off the body, but to put incorruption on over it.” Then he explains it: “so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” For since to many it seemed burdensome to lay aside the body, and he would be contradicting everyone’s judgment in saying, “We groan, wishing to be rid of it” (“For if the soul suffers such things and laments when it is separated from it, how do you say,” someone says, “that we groan because we are not separated from it?”), so that this might not be objected against him, “neither do I say,” he says, “that we groan for this, to lay it aside (for no one lays it aside without pain, since even of Peter Christ says, ‘They will gird you and carry you where you do not wish’), but to put incorruption on over it.” For this is what weighs us down in the body: not that it is a body, but that we are clothed in a body that is corruptible and subject to suffering; for this is what causes us grief. But life, when it comes, consumes and spends the corruption—the corruption, not the body. “And how does this happen?” someone says. Do not inquire; God does it; do not meddle. That is why he added, “He who has prepared us for this very thing is God.” From this he shows that these things were prefigured from the beginning. For this did not seem good to him now, but when from the beginning he fashioned us from the earth and created Adam; and he created him not so that he should die, but so as to make him immortal too. Then, showing its trustworthiness and giving proof of it, he added, “who has also given us the pledge of the Spirit.” For both then he fashioned us for this, and now he has prepared us for it through baptism, and has given us no small security for it, the Holy Spirit. He calls it a pledge continually, wishing to show God a debtor for the whole, and to make his statement more credible to the duller ones from this too.

“Being always of good courage, then, and knowing.” “Of good courage” is said with regard to persecutions, plots, continual deaths; as if he said, “Does someone drive you out, pursue you, kill you? Do not lose heart; everything happens for your sake. Do not fear, but be of good courage. For the very thing over which you groan and grieve, that you are a slave to corruption, he removes from the midst, and frees you the sooner from this slavery.” That is why he says, “Being always of good courage,” not in times of ease only but in afflictions too, “and knowing that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord; for we walk by faith, not by sight; we are of good courage, and would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” He put the greatest thing of all last; for to be with Christ is better than to receive incorruption. What he means is this: “The one who wars against us and kills us does not quench our life. Do not fear; be of good courage when you are cut to pieces. For he not only frees you from corruption and weight, but sends you swiftly to the Lord.” That is why he did not even say, “being in the body,” but “at home in the body,” as of those dwelling in a foreign and strange land. “Knowing, then, that while at home in the body we are away from the Lord, we are of good courage, and would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” Do you see how, hiding the painful names of death and dying, he set very desirable ones in their place, calling it being at home with God; and leaving aside what seemed sweet, the things of this life, he named them from painful things, calling life here being away from the Lord? He did this so that no one might either be fond of present things, but rather be weighed down by them, or be distressed when about to die, but even rejoice, as going away to greater goods. Then, so that no one, hearing “we are away from the Lord,” might say, “What are you saying? Are we estranged from him while we are here?” he corrected this in advance, saying, “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” “Even here we know him, but not so clearly”; as he says elsewhere, “in a mirror” and “in a riddle.” “We are of good courage and would rather.” Wonderful! Where he has led the argument round to: to an extreme desire for death, showing the burdensome to be sweet and the sweet burdensome. For “we would rather” means “we desire.” What do we desire? “To be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” He always does this, as I showed earlier too, turning the argument of his opponents to the opposite.

“So we make it our aim, whether at home or away, to be pleasing to him.” “For this is what is sought,” he says, “whether we are there or here, to live according to his will; for this is the chief thing. So from here you already have the kingdom, without a test.” For so that they might not again, coming to such a desire, be distressed at the delay of their going home, he gives them from here already the chief of goods. What is it? To be pleasing. For neither is departing simply good, but departing while approved, which makes that good too; nor is being here simply burdensome, but [offending] …

So do not think that departing from the body is enough; for virtue is needed everywhere. For as, having spoken of the resurrection, he did not let them take confidence in it alone, saying, “If indeed, having put it on, we shall not be found naked,” so too, having shown the departure, so that you might not think it enough for your salvation, he added, “We must be pleasing.” Since, then, he had urged them on from many good things, he now frightens them also from the gloomier ones. For our benefit consists both in gaining good things and in escaping evils, that is, Gehenna and the kingdom. And since escaping punishment has the greater force (for where the loss goes only as far as not receiving the good things, most will bear it easily; but if it goes as far as suffering ill, no longer; for one ought to think that loss unbearable, but because of the weakness and groveling of the many, this seems harder to them)—since, then, the giving of good things does not rouse the ordinary hearer as much as the threat of punishments, he necessarily ends here, saying, “For we must all be manifested before the judgment seat of Christ.” Then, having frightened and shaken the hearer with the memory of the judgment seat, not even here did he set down the painful things without the good, but mixed in some pleasure, saying, “so that each may receive what he has done through the body, whether good or evil.” Saying this, he raises up by hopes those who have done well and are persecuted, and makes the careless more earnest by fear. And he confirmed the doctrine of the resurrection of bodies too. “For surely what ministered to this and that will not stand outside the rewards,” he means, “but with the soul some will be punished and others crowned.”

But some of the heretics say that another body rises. How, tell me? Did one sin and another is punished? Did one do well and another is crowned? And what will you say to Paul when he says, “We do not wish to be unclothed but to be further clothed”? And how is the mortal swallowed up by life? For he did not say, “so that the mortal or corruptible body may be swallowed up by the incorruptible body,” but “so that the corruption may be swallowed up by life.” For this happens when the same body rises; but if he leaves that one aside and makes another, it is no longer swallowed up, but the corruption remains victorious. That is why this does not happen, but this corruptible thing, that is, the body, must put on incorruption. For the body is in between, now in this state and later to be in that; and that is why it is first in this, since incorruption cannot be dissolved. “For corruption does not inherit incorruption,” he says; since how could there be incorruption? But on the contrary, corruption is swallowed up by life; for this overcomes that, but that no longer this. For as wax is melted by fire, but does not itself dissolve the fire, so corruption is melted by incorruption and vanishes, but can never overcome it.

Let us, then, hear Paul’s voice saying, “We must stand before the judgment seat of Christ,” and let us picture that tribunal, and think that it is present now and the accounts are being demanded. I will speak of it more broadly. For Paul, since his discourse was about affliction and he did not want to afflict them again, did not dwell on the word, but saying the harsh thing briefly, “Each will receive according to what he has done,” he quickly ran past it. Let us think, then, that it is present now, and let each reckon up his own conscience, and consider that the Judge is already present, and everything is being uncovered and brought into the midst; for we must not simply stand there, but be manifested. Do you not blush? Are you not [astonished]? But if now, when the thing is not yet present but only proposed by supposition and shaped in thought, we are undone by our conscience, what shall we do when it arrives, when the whole world is present, when angels and archangels, when rank upon rank, and everyone running, and being caught up on the clouds, and an array full of trembling; when the trumpets sound one after another, those continual voices? For even if there were no Gehenna, to be thrust away from such splendor and to go off dishonored—how great a punishment! For if now, when the emperor rides in with his train, each of us, beholding his own poverty, takes less pleasure from the sight than the dejection he endures at having no share in the things around the emperor and being nowhere near the ruler, what will it be then? Or do you think it a small punishment not to be ranked in that choir, not to be counted worthy of the unspeakable glory, to be thrown somewhere far off from that festival and those unutterable goods? But when there is also darkness, and gnashing of teeth, and bonds that cannot be loosed, and the endless worm, and fire unquenched, and affliction and distress, and tongues fried like the rich man’s; and we lament and no one hears, and we groan and gnash our teeth from the pains, and no one attends, and we look everywhere and nowhere is there anyone to console; where shall we rank those who are in these things? What is more wretched than those souls? What …

For if, going into a prison and seeing some unkempt, others bound and hungry, others shut up in darkness, we are broken down and shudder, and [do] everything never to fall [into it], what shall we be when we are led and dragged into the very torture chambers of Gehenna? For those bonds are not of iron but of fire never quenched; nor are those set over us our equals, whom one can often appease, but angels, whom it is not lawful even to look at, vehemently [indignant] on behalf of the Master whom we have insulted. It is not possible, as here, to see some bringing in money, others food, others words of comfort, and to obtain consolation; but everything there is without pardon. Even if it is Noah, or Job, or Daniel, and he sees his own people punished, he does not dare to stand by them. For then even the sympathy of nature is done away with. For since it happens that righteous fathers have wicked children, and children wicked fathers, so that the pleasure may be pure and those enjoying the good things may not be broken down by the compulsion of sympathy, this sympathy too is quenched, … against their own bowels. For if ordinary men, when they see their children wicked, disown them and cut them off from the family, much more the righteous then. So let no one hope for good things without having done anything good, even if he has countless righteous ancestors: “For each will receive according to what he has done through the body.” Here he seems to me to hint at the fornicators too, and to build up the fear from there against them; and not against them only, but against all who offend in anything. Let us too, then, listen. If you have the fire of desire, set that fire against it, and this one will at once be quenched and gone. If you want to utter something harsh, think of the gnashing of teeth, and the fear will be a bridle to you. If you want to rob, hear the judge commanding and saying, “Bind his hands and feet and cast him into the outer darkness,” and so you will cast out this desire too. If you are drunk and continue in debauchery, hear the rich man saying, “Send Lazarus, that he may cool my tongue, which is being fried, with the tip of his finger,” and not obtaining it; and you will turn from the passion. If you love luxury, think of the affliction and distress there, and you will think nothing of this. If you are harsh and cruel, remember those virgins who, when their lamps were quenched, fell out of the bridal chamber, and you will quickly become kind. “But you are sluggish and slack?” Consider the one who [hid] the talent. “But desire for your neighbor’s property devours you?” Consider the endless worm, and you will easily lay aside this disease too, and achieve everything else; for he commanded nothing burdensome or heavy. Why then do the commands seem burdensome to us? From our carelessness. For as, if we are earnest, even what seems unbearable will be light and easy, so if we are careless, even what is bearable will seem difficult to us. Reckoning all these things, then, let us not consider those who live in luxury, but what their end is: here dung and corpulence, there the worm and fire. Not those who rob, but what their end is: here cares and fears and anxieties, there bonds that cannot be loosed. Not those who love glory, but what remains from it: here slaveries and pretenses, there unbearable loss and continual burning. If we talk to ourselves so, and continually sing these and such charms over our wicked desires, we shall quickly cast out the love of present things and kindle that of things to come. … let us kindle it, then, and set it ablaze. For if the thought of them, dim as it is, gives such pleasure, consider how great a gladness the clear experience will give us. Blessed, thrice blessed and many times so, are those who enjoy those good things; as pitiable and thrice wretched are those who endure the opposite. So that we may be not of these but of those, let us choose virtue; for so we shall obtain the good things to come; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, might, and honor to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and to the ages of ages.