Homilies on 2 Corinthians 6.1–7.1

“Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, as some do, letters of recommendation to you or from you?”

The objection others were going to raise against him, “You exalt yourself,” he anticipates and puts himself, though he had said, “And who is sufficient for these things?” and, “We speak from sincerity”; yet he is not content with those words. For such is his character: he stands far from seeming to say anything great about himself, and flees it with great superiority and to excess. But see from this too the abundance of his wisdom. A thing that seems gloomy—I mean afflictions—he so exalted, and showed to be so splendid and conspicuous, that this objection arose for him out of what he had said. He does this toward the end too. For after counting countless dangers … he added, saying, “We are not commending ourselves …”; he puts it again there vehemently and with more consolation. For here the words are those of love: “Or do we need, as some do, letters of recommendation?”; but there what is said is full of some spirit, necessarily and usefully, and of anger: “For we are not commending ourselves to you again,” he says, “but giving you cause to boast”; and, “Have you been thinking all along that we are defending ourselves to you? We speak in the sight of God in Christ. For I fear that perhaps when I come I may find you not as I wish, and you may find me not as you wish.” So as not to seem to seek credit by flattery, as one desiring honor from them, he says this: “I fear that perhaps when I come I may find you not as I wish, and you may find me not as you wish.” But those words come with much accusation; at the beginning he does not speak so, but more gently.

What is it he says? He spoke of the temptations and the dangers, and of how he is led in procession everywhere by God in Christ, and how the whole world knows these triumphs. Since, then, he had uttered great things about himself, he raises an objection against himself, saying, “Are we beginning to commend ourselves again?” What he means is this: “Perhaps someone will object to us, ‘What is this, Paul? You say these things about yourself and exalt yourself?’ To remove this suspicion,” he says, “this is not what we want, to boast and exalt ourselves; but we are so far from needing letters of recommendation to you that we have you in place of a letter.” “For you are our letter,” he says. What is “you are”? “If we had to be commended to others, we would have brought you forward in place of a letter.” This he said in the first letter too: “For you are the seal of my apostleship.” But here he does not say it in that way, but with irony, so as to make the word more striking: “Or do we need …” And [meaning] the false apostles, he added, “as some do, letters of recommendation to you or from you,” to one another. Then, since what was said was heavy, he softens it, adding, “You are our letter … a letter of Christ.” Here he bears witness to them not only of love but also of good deeds, since they are able by their own virtue to show all people the dignity of their teacher. For this is what “you are our letter” means. “What letters would have done, commending us and making us respected, you do, both seen and heard. For the virtue of disciples usually adorns and commends the teacher more than any letter.” “Written on our hearts.” That is, a letter that all know: “so we carry you about everywhere and have you in mind.” As if he said, “You are our commendation to others; for we have you continually in our heart, and [proclaim] your good deeds to all. So because you are our commendation to others, we do not need letters from you; and because we love you greatly, we do not need commendation to you; for one needs letters for strangers, but you are in our mind.” And he did not simply say “you are,” but “written”; that is, you cannot even fall out of it. “For as reading from a letter, so all, knowing it from our heart, know the love we have for you. If letters exist so as to show that so-and-so is my friend and should enjoy freedom of access, your love is enough to achieve everything. For if we come to you, we need no others to commend us, since your friendship goes before us; and if we go to others, again we have no need of letters, the same love being enough for us in their place; for we carry the letter about in our hearts.”

Then, exalting them still higher, he even calls them a letter of Christ, saying, “Being manifested that you are a letter of Christ.” And having said this, he takes from it occasion and beginning to examine the matters of the Law. And here he calls them a letter in another sense too. Above he called them a letter as commending him; here a letter of Christ, as having the law of God written in them. “For what God wished to declare to all and to you, these things are written in your hearts. And we prepared you to receive the writing. As Moses carved the stones and the tablets, so we carved your souls.” That is why he says, “ministered by us.” But in this they were equal; for those tablets were written by God, and these by the Spirit. Where then is the difference? “Written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone” [but on tablets of fleshly hearts] … as great as the difference between Spirit and ink, between stone and flesh, so great is the difference between these and those; and so too between those who ministered to these and the one who ministered to those.

That is why, since he had uttered a great thing, he quickly checks himself, saying, “Such is the confidence we have through Christ toward God,” and again ascribes the whole to God; “for Christ is the cause of these things for us,” he says. “Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to reckon anything as coming from ourselves.” See yet another correction. For he possesses this virtue above all, and to excess—I mean humility. So whenever he says something great about himself, he [hastens] … to [temper] what was said in every way; which he does here too, saying, “Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to reckon anything as coming from ourselves.” That is: “I did not say ‘we have confidence’ as if part were ours and part God’s; but I ascribe and reckon the whole to him.” “For our sufficiency is from God, who has also made us sufficient as ministers of a new covenant.” What is “made sufficient”? He made us able and fit. And this is no small thing, to bring such tablets and letters to the world, much greater than the former ones. That is why he added, “not of the letter but of the Spirit.” See, again another difference. What then? Was that law not spiritual? How then does he say, “We know that the law is spiritual”? Spiritual, yes, but it did not provide the Spirit; for Moses did not bring the Spirit but letters; but we have been entrusted with giving the Spirit. That is why he works it out further, saying, “For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” He does not say this idly, but hinting at those who were proud of Jewish observances. By “letter” here he means the law that punishes offenders; by “Spirit,” the grace through baptism that gives life to those made dead by their sins. Having stated the difference arising from the nature of the tablets, he does not dwell on it, but passing it over he works out the more that point by which he could most win the hearer, from what is beneficial and easy. “For it involves no toil,” he says, “and it provides greater grace.” For if, when speaking of Christ, he puts forward above all what belongs to his love for humankind rather than to his dignity, and these are bound up with each other, much more does he necessarily do this with the covenant. What then is “the letter kills”? He had said, “on tablets of stone” and “on hearts of flesh,” but he did not yet seem to state a great difference. So he added that the one was by letter, or ink, the other by the Spirit. Not even this roused them much. So he next says what was able to give them wings: that the one kills and the other gives life.

What is this? Under the Law, one who has sin is punished; here, one who has sin comes, is baptized, and becomes righteous; and becoming righteous he lives, freed from the death of sin. The Law, if it seizes a murderer, puts him to death; grace, if it seizes a murderer, enlightens him and gives him life. And why do I say a murderer? [The Law seized one who gathered] wood [on the Sabbath and stoned him]: this is “the letter kills.” Grace takes countless murderers and robbers and, baptizing them, frees them from their former evils: this is “the Spirit gives life.” The Law makes the one it catches dead from living; grace makes the guilty one living from dead. For “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened”; and he did not say, “I will punish you,” but, “I will give you rest.” For in baptism sins are buried, the former things are blotted out, the man is made alive, the whole grace is written on his heart as on a tablet. Consider, then, how great is the dignity of the Spirit, when his tablets are better than the former ones, when he shows something greater even than the resurrection itself. For this deadness is harder than the former, from which he also frees, by as much as the soul is better than the body; and through this life the other life which the Spirit gives is established. And if he is able to bestow this, much more the lesser one; for the prophets worked that, but this no longer. “For no one can forgive sins but God alone.” Nor did the prophets bestow even that life without the Spirit. And the wonderful thing is not only that he gives life, but that he gave others the power to do this too. “Receive …”

“[Receive,” he says, “the Holy Spirit.” Why? Was it not possible without the Spirit? But God, showing that this belongs to the highest authority, and to that royal being, and has the same power, says this too; that is why he adds, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain them, they are retained.”] Since, then, he has given us life, let us remain living, and not go back again to our former deadness; “for Christ dies no more; for the death he died, he died to sin once for all”; and he does not wish us always to be saved by grace, since then we would be empty of everything; that is why he wants something to be contributed on our part too. Let us contribute, then, and keep the soul living. What the life of the soul is, learn from the body. For we say that the body lives when it walks [upright and in order]; but when it [moves] … and out of order, even if it seems to live or to walk, such a life is harder than any death. And if it speaks nothing sound, but the words of the deranged, and sees one thing in place of another, again such a man is more pitiable than the dead. So too the soul, when it has nothing sound, even if it seems to live, is dead: when it does not see gold as gold, but as something great and precious; when it does not consider the things to come, but drags along the ground; when it does one thing in place of another. For how is it plain that we have a soul? Is it not from its activities? When, then, it does not carry out its own activities, is it not dead? For instance, when it does not care for virtue, but robs and breaks the law, how can I say that you have a soul? Because you walk? But the irrational animals do that too. Because you eat and drink? But wild beasts do that too. Because you stand upright on two feet? This shows me rather that you are a beast in human shape. For when you have everything else of the beast, but not its posture, you trouble and frighten me the more, and I think what I see is rather a monster. For if I saw a beast speaking with a human voice, I would not on that account say that it was a man, but on that very account a beast more monstrous than a beast. How then shall I be able to learn that you have a human soul, when you kick like asses, bear grudges like camels, bite like bears, snatch like wolves, steal like foxes, are deceitful like snakes, are shameless like the dog? How shall I be able to learn that you have a human soul?

Do you want me to show you a dead soul and a living one? Let us bring our discourse back again to those men of old and, if you will, set in the midst the rich man in the story of Lazarus, and we shall know what the deadness of the soul is. For that man had a dead soul, and it is plain from what he did. For he did none of the works of the soul, but ate and drank and … Such too are those now who are merciless and cruel; for these too have a dead soul, like his. For all its warmth, which comes from love for the neighbor, has been spent, and it is deader than a lifeless body. But the poor man was not such; standing on the very summit of wisdom, he shone; and wrestling with continual hunger, and not even supplied with necessary food, not even so did he say anything blasphemous against God, but bore everything nobly. This is no small work of the soul, but the greatest proof of its vigor and health. When these things are absent, it is plain that the soul has perished through being made dead. Or shall we not say, tell me, that that soul is dead, when the devil assails it … and it perceives none of these things, but lies made dead, and is not pained when its wealth is taken away, but he leaps upon it, while it remains motionless, like a body from which the soul has departed, not even perceiving? For when the fear of God is not present with exactness, the soul must be such, and more wretched than the dead. For the soul does not dissolve into corruption and ashes and dust, as the body does, but into things more foul-smelling than these: into drunkenness and anger and greed, into monstrous loves and unseasonable desires. And if you wish to see its foul smell more exactly, give me a pure soul, and then you will see clearly how foul-smelling and unclean this shameful soul is. Now you will not be able to perceive it; for as long as we are used to the stench, we do not perceive it; but when we are nourished with spiritual words, then we shall know that evil; though to many this seems a matter of indifference. And I am not yet speaking of Gehenna; but, if you wish, let us examine present things, and not the man who does shameful things but the one who speaks them: how ridiculous he is, how he insults himself first, defiling himself as one who lets mud flow from his mouth. For if the stream is so unclean, consider what the spring of this mud is like: “For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” I mourn not only for this, but because among many this does not even seem to be one of the things out of place. From this all evils increase, when we both sin and do not even think we are offending. Do you want to learn how great an evil shameful talk is? Consider the hearers, how they blush at your indecency. For what is cheaper than a man of foul speech? What more dishonorable? Such men push themselves into the rank of mimes and of prostitutes; or rather, those blush more than you do. How can you teach your wife to be chaste, when you train her by these words to break out into licentiousness? It is better to let rottenness flow from the mouth than a shameful word. Now, if your mouth smells, you do not even share in common meals; but when there is such a stench in the soul, do you dare to share in the mysteries, tell me? And if someone took an unclean vessel and set it on your table, you would beat him with sticks and drive him out; but when you bring before God at his own table (for his table is our mouth when it is filled with the thanksgiving), words more loathsome than any unclean vessel, do you not think you provoke him, tell me? How could it be otherwise? For nothing so angers the holy and pure one as these words; nothing so makes people shameless as speaking and hearing such things; nothing so slackens the sinews of chastity as the flame kindled by these words. God has put perfume in your mouth, but you deposit there words more foul-smelling than a corpse, and you destroy the [soul] itself … This is not the voice of the soul, but of anger. When the soul speaks shameful things, it is not the soul that spoke, but licentiousness; when you slander, envy; when you plot, greed. For these things belong not to the soul, but to its passions and diseases. As decay belongs not simply to the body, but to death and to the affliction in the body, so too these belong to the passions that come upon the soul.

If you want to hear the voice of a living soul, hear Paul saying, “Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content”; and, “Godliness is great gain”; and, “The world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” Hear Peter saying, “Silver and gold I have not, but what I have I give you.” Hear Job giving thanks and saying, “The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away.” These are the words of a living soul, of one carrying out its own activity. So Jacob too said, “If the Lord gives me bread to eat and a garment to put on”; so Joseph, “How shall I do this wicked thing and sin before God?” But not that barbarian woman; like one drunk and raving, she spoke, saying, “Lie with me.” Knowing these things, then, let us emulate the living soul and flee the dead one, so that we may obtain the life to come; which may we all share, by the grace and love for humankind …

“Now if the ministry of death, carved in letters on stones, came with glory, so that the children of Israel could not gaze at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face, which was being brought to an end, how will the ministry of the Spirit not be more in glory?”

He had said that the tablets of Moses were of stone, as having letters, while these, the hearts of the apostles, were of flesh and written with the Spirit; and that the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. It remained to add to this comparison another point, and no small one: the glory of Moses, which no one has seen here in the New Covenant with the eyes of the body. That is why that glory seemed great, because it was a glory perceptible to the senses; for it was seen with the eyes of the body, even though it was unapproachable; but the glory of the New is spiritual. For the grasp of such superiority is not clear to the weaker, but that glory rather lifted them up and turned them toward itself. Since, then, he had fallen into this comparison and was eager to show the superiority, and it was very difficult because of the dullness of his hearers, see what he does and how he handles it: first he brings in the difference by reasoning, and weaves them in from what had been said before. “For if the one was a ministry of death and this a ministry of life, there is no doubt that this glory too is greater than that,” he says. Since he could not show it to the eyes of the body, he set forth its superiority by reasoning, saying, “If the ministry of death came with glory, how will the ministry of the Spirit not be more in glory?” By “ministry of death” he means the Law. And see how even in the comparison he takes great care, so as to give heretics no handle. For he did not say “that which produces death,” but “the ministry of death”; for it ministered toward death; it did not give birth to death. Sin was what produced death; the Law brought the punishment, and was a revealer of sin, not its producer. For it revealed the evil more clearly and punished it; it did not push toward evil; and it ministered not toward sin’s or death’s coming into being, but toward the sinner’s paying the penalty; so that in this way it was even destructive of sin. For one who shows sin to be so fearful plainly makes it something to flee. As, then, the man who wields the sword and beheads the condemned man ministers to the judge who pronounces sentence, and it is not he who kills, though he beheads, nor yet the one who pronounces sentence and condemns, but the wickedness of the one punished, so here too it is not the Law that kills, but sin. Sin both killed and condemned; but the Law, by punishing, cut away sin’s strength, restraining it by fear of punishment.

And he was not content with this alone to set forth the superiority, but adds another point, saying, “carved in letters on stones.” See how he again cuts away Jewish pride. For the Law was nothing else than letters; not some help leaping out of the letters and breathing into those who contend, as in baptism, but pillars and writings bringing death to those who transgress the letters. Do you see how, correcting the Jewish contentiousness, he pulls down its dignity even by the names, saying “stone,” and “letters,” and “ministry of death,” and adding “carved”? For by this he suggests nothing other than that the Law was set up in one place, not, like the Spirit, present everywhere and breathing great strength into all; or that the letters breathe great threatening, a threat that cannot even be blotted out but remains forever, as being engraved in stones. Then, while seeming to praise the old things, he again mingles in an accusation of the Jews. For having said, “carved in letters on stones, came with glory,” he added, “so that the children of Israel could not gaze at the face of Moses”; which was a sign of their great weakness and groveling. And again he does not say, “because of the glory of the tablets,” but, “because of the glory of his face, which was being brought to an end.” For he shows that the one who carried them was glorified, not the tablets. He did not say, “because they could not gaze at the tablets,” but “at the face of Moses”; and again not “because of the glory of the tablets,” but “because of the glory of his face.” Then, having exalted it, see how he pulls it down again, saying, “which was being brought to an end.” This is not a matter of accusation but of diminution; for he did not say, “corrupted, wicked,” but “ceasing,” coming to an end. “How will the ministry of the Spirit not be more in glory?” Having taken courage, he now exalts the things of the New as beyond dispute. And see what he does. He set stone against heart, and letter against Spirit. Then, having shown what comes from each, he no longer sets down what comes from each; but having set down what comes from the letter, death and condemnation, he no longer sets down what comes from the Spirit, life and righteousness, but the Spirit himself; which made the statement greater. For the New Covenant did not give life only, but supplied the Spirit who provides life, which was much greater than life. That is why he said, “the ministry of the Spirit.” Then he turns the same point round again, saying, “For if the ministry of condemnation had glory …”