Homilies on 2 Corinthians

“Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the church of God that is at Corinth, with all the saints who are in the whole of Achaia: grace to you and peace from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, through the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

[1.] It is worth asking first why he adds a second letter to the first, and why he begins in this way, from the mercies of God and from comfort. Why, then, does he add a second? In the first letter he had said, “I will come to you, and I will find out not the talk but the power” (of those who were puffed up), and toward the end he again promised this very thing: “For I will come to you,” he says, “when I pass through Macedonia … and perhaps I will stay with you, or even spend the winter.” Yet although much time had passed he had not come; even when the appointed time had gone by he was still delaying and lingering, because the Spirit was holding him back for other matters far more urgent than these. That is why he needed a second letter; he would not have needed one if he had been only a little late. And not for this reason only, but also because they had become better as a result of the first letter. For the man who had committed sexual immorality, whom they had earlier applauded and of whom they were proud, they cut off and wholly excommunicated. He made this plain when he said, “If anyone has caused grief, he has not grieved me, but in some measure, not to burden you all. For such a one this punishment by the majority is enough.” And further on he hints at the same thing again, saying, “For see what earnestness this very thing, your being grieved in a godly way, has produced in you: what eagerness to clear yourselves, what [indignation], what zeal, what punishment! In everything …” And the collection too, which he had ordered, they had gathered with great eagerness; that is why he said, “For I know your readiness, of which I boast about you to the Macedonians.” … And Titus, whom he sent, they received with all goodwill. To show this very thing he said again that “his affection is all the more toward you, as he remembers the obedience of you all, how you received him with fear and trembling.” For all these reasons he writes the second letter. It was right that, as he had rebuked them when they sinned, so when they were corrected he should welcome and praise them. That is why the whole letter is not severe, but only a few parts toward its end. For among them too there were some from the Jews who were proud and who slandered Paul as a braggart worth no account; that is why they said, “His letters are weighty, but his bodily presence is weak and his speech contemptible.” What they meant was this: “When he is present he seems worth nothing” (that is what “his bodily presence is weak” means), “but when he has gone away he boasts of great things in what he writes” (that is what “his letters are weighty” signifies). And to appear to make something grand of themselves, they pretended not to accept support. Hinting at this too he said, “so that in what they boast of they may be found just as we are.” Besides this, they had the power of eloquence there as well, and were greatly elated by it. That is why he calls himself unskilled in speech, showing that he is not ashamed of it and does not count eloquence a great possession, but rather the opposite. Since, then, it was likely that some were being led astray by them, he first pulls down their arrogance about Jewish observances (for they were contending for keeping them out of season), and then, in due measure, he rebukes them on these matters too.

Such, then, as one might put it summarily and in passing, seems to me to be the subject of the letter. Now we must take up the opening of the letter and, after his customary greeting, say why he began in this way, from the mercies of God. First, however, it is necessary to state the opening itself and ask how he joins Timothy with himself here. “Paul,” it says, “an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother.” For in the first letter he promised to send him and gave instructions, saying, “When Timothy comes, see that he is with you without fear.” How then does he join him with himself here in the opening? Timothy had arrived according to his teacher’s promise (“For I have sent you Timothy,” he says, “who will remind you of my ways in Christ”), had set things right, and had gone back. For when he sent him Paul said, “Send him on his way in peace, so that he may come to me; for I am expecting him with the brothers.” [2.] Since, then, Timothy had rejoined his teacher, and … [Paul had stayed] at Ephesus until Pentecost, and again [set out] for Macedonia, he now joins him with himself. For then he wrote from Asia, but now he writes from Macedonia. He joined him with himself both to make him more respected in this way and to show his own great humility; for Timothy was much his inferior, but love brings everything together. That is why everywhere he puts him on a level with himself, now [in one way], now saying, “For he is doing the work of the Lord, as I am”; and here he even calls him brother, by every means making him honored by the Corinthians. For, as I said, he had been there and had given proof of his virtue.

“To the church of God that is at Corinth.” Again he calls them a church, gathering them all into one and binding them together. For there could not be one church if its members were torn apart and standing against one another. “With all the saints who are in [the whole of Achaia].” … and he gathers the whole nation together. He calls them saints, showing that anyone impure is outside this title. But why, writing to the metropolis, does he write through it to all, though he does not do this everywhere? Writing to the Thessalonians he certainly did not write to the Macedonians as well; writing to the Ephesians he likewise did not include all Asia; and the letter to the Romans was not addressed also to those living in Italy. Here, however, he does it, and in the letter to the Galatians. For there too he writes not to one city, or two or three, but to those scattered everywhere, saying, “Paul, an apostle, not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead, and all the brothers who are with me, to the churches of Galatia: grace to you and peace.” And to the Hebrews too he wrote one letter to them all, not dividing them city by city. What then is the reason? It seems to me that the diseases here were common to all; that is why he makes the letter common too, since they needed a common correction. For all the Galatians were sick, and the Hebrews too, and these as well, I think. So having gathered the whole nation and greeted them as he is accustomed to address everyone (“Grace to you and peace,” he says, “from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ”), hear how fittingly he begins for the subject at hand: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.”

“And how is this fitting to the subject at hand?” someone asks. Very fitting indeed. Consider: it grieved and troubled them greatly that the apostle had not come, and that after promising to, but had spent the whole time in Macedonia and seemed to have preferred others to them. So, setting himself against what troubled them, he gives the reason why he did not come. Yet he does not state it directly or say, “I know that I promised to come, but since I was hindered by afflictions, forgive me, and do not condemn me for contempt or carelessness.” He presents it otherwise, more grandly and more convincingly, raising the matter by the consolation he gives, so that they will no longer even ask the reason for his delay. He does what someone does who has promised to come to a person he longs for and then, arriving after countless dangers, says, “Glory to you, O God, that you have shown me the face I longed for! Blessed be God, from what dangers he has delivered me!” For such a doxology becomes a defense against anyone who would accuse him, and does not even allow him to find fault with the delay. One would blush to drag into court a man who is giving thanks to God for his deliverance from such great evils, and to demand an account of his slowness. That is why he begins thus: “Blessed be the God of mercies,” hinting by it at the onset of great dangers and the deliverance from them. For David too does not name God everywhere in the same way or from the same things. When he speaks of war and victory he says, “I will love you, O Lord, my strength; the Lord is my defender”; when he speaks of deliverance from affliction and from the darkness that had held him, “The Lord is my light and my savior”; and he names him now from his love for humankind, now from his justice, now from his impartial judgment, as suits the occasions at hand. So too Paul, beginning here, names him from his love for humankind, saying, “the God of mercies,” that is, he who showed such great mercies as to bring us back from the very gates of death.

[3.] For this is above all God’s own and peculiar to him, allotted to his very nature: to have mercy in this way. That is why he calls him the God of mercies. But notice here too Paul’s humility. Though he was in danger for the preaching, he does not say that he was saved because of his own worth, but because of God’s mercies. That he says more clearly later; now he goes on: “who comforts us in all affliction.” He did not say, “who does not let us be afflicted,” but, “who comforts us while we are afflicted.” For this both shows God’s power and increases the endurance of the afflicted: “For affliction,” it says, “produces endurance.” The prophet said this too: “In affliction you enlarged me.” He did not say, “You did not let me fall into affliction,” nor, “You quickly took the affliction away,” but, “While it remained you enlarged me,” that is, you gave me much room and relief. This is what happened with the three youths. God neither prevented them from falling into the furnace nor, when they had fallen in, quenched the flame; but while the furnace was burning he gave them room. God is always accustomed to do this, and Paul was hinting at it when he said, “who comforts us in all affliction.” By these words he shows something else too. What is it? That God does this not once or twice but continually. He does not comfort at one time and abandon at another, but always and constantly does it. That is why he said “who comforts,” not “who comforted,” and “in all affliction,” not “in this one or that,” but “in all”: “so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, through the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” Do you see how he prepares his defense in advance and gives the hearer a suggestion of great affliction? And through these same words he again speaks modestly of the apostles, saying that this mercy came about not because of their worth but because of those who were to be helped by them. “For this is why he comforted us,” he says, “so that we may comfort one another.” By this he also shows the dignity of the apostles, making it clear that once comforted and refreshed, the apostle does not fall back as we do, but goes on to anoint others, to brace them and rouse them. Some say he also means this: “Our comfort is the comfort of others too.” It seems to me that by this opening he is also aiming at the false apostles who boasted idly and sat at home in luxury. But that is said obscurely and by the way; his main purpose was to defend himself for his delay. “For if we are comforted so that we may comfort others, do not accuse us for not coming. All our time was spent on this: on plots, on attacks, on breaking up the dangers that came upon us.”

“For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so through Christ our comfort also abounds.” So as not to cast down the disciples by greatly magnifying the calamities, he shows again that the abundance of comfort is great too, and lifts up their minds, not only in this way but also by reminding them of Christ and saying that the sufferings are his; and even before the comfort he brings in consolation from the afflictions themselves. For what is sweeter than for me to become a partner of Christ and to suffer these things for his sake? What comfort is equal to this? And not from this only, but from elsewhere too he raises the spirits of the afflicted. From where? From saying, “abound.” For he did not say, “As the sufferings of Christ come upon us,” but, “as they abound,” showing that they endure not only his sufferings but more than these. “For we have suffered,” he says, “not only as many sufferings as he suffered, but more.” Consider: Christ was driven out, persecuted, scourged, put to death. “But we,” he says, “more than these”; and this alone would suffice for consolation. But let no one condemn the statement as rash; for elsewhere too he says, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings, and fill up what is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh.” Neither statement comes from rashness or from any arrogance. For just as they worked greater signs than he (“He who believes in me,” he says, “will do greater works than these”), yet the whole belongs to him who works in them, so too they suffered more than he; but again the whole belongs to him who comforts them and prepares them to bear the dreadful things that befall them.

That is why Paul, perceiving how great a thing he had uttered, see how he tones it down again, saying, “So through Christ our comfort also abounds,” attributing the whole to him and proclaiming his love for humankind from this too. “For we are comforted not only as much as we are afflicted,” he says, “but much more.” For he did not say, “The comfort is equal to the sufferings,” but, “The comfort abounds,” so that the season of contests is again a season of other crowns. For what, tell me, is equal to being scourged for Christ, and conversing with God, and being stronger than all, and overcoming one’s persecutors, and being unconquerable by the world, and from this expecting such good things as “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man”? What is equal to being afflicted for godliness, and enjoying countless comforts from God, and being freed from so many sins, and being counted worthy of the Spirit and of sanctification and righteousness, and fearing and trembling before no one, and appearing more splendid than all in the very midst of danger? Let us not, then, lose heart in temptations. For no one shares with Christ who lives in luxury and sleeps and lolls at ease, none of those who live this soft and dissolute life; but the one in affliction and temptation, the one who walks the narrow way, stands near him. For he himself walked it; that is why he said, “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” So do not be pained when you are afflicted, considering whose partner you are, and how you are cleansed through temptations, and how much you gain. For nothing is grievous except offending God. When that is absent, neither afflictions nor plots nor anything else can grieve a right-minded soul. As when you throw a little spark into a great deep you quench it at once, so every excess of dejection, falling into a good conscience, perishes and vanishes easily. That is why Paul always rejoiced: because he had confidence in what concerned God, and did not even feel such great evils; he grieved as a man, but did not collapse. So too that patriarch was in gladness, though he suffered much that was painful. Consider: he was driven from his homeland; he underwent long and hard journeys; coming into a foreign land he did not have so much as a foot’s breadth. Next famine took him in turn and made him a migrant; and after the famine came the seizing of his wife, and fear of death, and childlessness, and war, and dangers and plots, and last, the crown of his trials, the slaughter of his only and true-born son, that painful and unbearable ordeal. Do not think, because he obeyed readily, that he underwent all those things without feeling. For even if he was ten thousand times righteous, as indeed he was, he was still a man and felt what nature feels. Yet none of these things overthrew him; he stood like a noble athlete, proclaimed a crowned victor in each of them. So too blessed Paul, seeing snowstorms of temptations coming upon him every day, rejoiced and exulted as if he were living in luxury in the middle of paradise. As one who rejoices with this joy cannot be captured by dejection, so one who has not chosen it is an easy prey to everything, and suffers like someone with rotten armor who is wounded by any chance blow. Not so the one who is well fenced on every side: he shatters every javelin that comes at him. For pleasure in God is stronger than any armor, and nothing can make such a man downcast and gloomy; he bears everything nobly. For what is worse than fire? What is more painful than continual tortures? Even if someone loses countless possessions, or children, or anything at all, bodily torment is, in terms of pain, more tyrannical than all of these: “Skin for skin, and all that a man has he will give for his life.” Nothing could be harder than bodily pains. Yet even things that are unbearable to hear of become bearable and desirable through pleasure in God. If you take the martyr from the rack or from the frying pans while he still breathes a little, you will find such joy stored up in him as cannot be told.

“And what am I to do,” someone says, “since now is not the time for martyrdom?” What are you saying? Not a time for martyrdom? It is never absent, but always before our eyes, if we are sober. For it is not only hanging on the rack that makes a martyr; if that were so, Job would be outside these crowns. He neither stood before a court, nor heard a judge’s voice, nor saw an executioner; he was not hung up on a rack and raised aloft to have his sides torn; yet he suffered harder things than many martyrs. The voices of those messengers, coming one after another, struck him more sharply than any blow and pierced him on every side, and the mouths of those worms devoured him on every side more bitterly than countless executioners.

[5.] Of what martyr, then, would he not be the equal? Of countless. For he wrestled and was crowned through everything: through his possessions, through his children, through his body, through his wife, through friends, through enemies, through servants (for they too spat in his face), through hunger, through dreams, through pains, through stench. That is why I said that he would be the equal not of one or two or three martyrs but of countless. For besides what has been said, the time too adds much to his crowns: that he suffered these things before the Law, before grace, and for many months, and all to excess, and that all the dreadful things fell on him at once; though each of them by itself is unbearable, even the one that seems more bearable, the loss of money. Many indeed have borne blows but have not borne the loss of money; they chose rather to be scourged for it and to suffer countless dreadful things than to give up any of it, and this blow, the loss of money, seemed to them the greater. So this too is another kind of martyrdom, for one who bears the loss of them nobly.

“And how shall we bear it nobly?” someone says. When you learn that you will gain more than you have lost by a single word, the word of thanksgiving. For if, when we hear of the loss, we are not troubled but say, “Blessed be God,” we have found far greater wealth. You will not reap as much by spending your wealth on the needy, going about and seeking out the poor and scattering your goods among the hungry, as you will gain by this word. Indeed, I do not so much admire Job for opening his house to the needy as I am amazed at him, and proclaim him, for bearing the plundering of his goods with thanksgiving. The same can be seen in the loss of children. Here too you will receive no less, if, seeing your son dead, you give thanks to God, the lover of humankind. For in what will such a man be inferior to Abraham? Abraham did not see his son lying dead, but only expected to. So if he has the advantage in being about to sacrifice him, and in stretching out his hand and seizing the knife, he is at a disadvantage in that here the child lies dead. And in another way too: the hope of the achievement brought Abraham consolation, as did the fact that the great deed was the work of his own courage, and hearing a voice from above made him more ready; but here there is nothing of the sort. So one needs a soul of adamant, seeing an only son, raised in wealth and showing good hopes, lying stretched out by the grave, to bear what has happened meekly. Such a man, if he can calm the waves of nature and say without a tear the words of Job, “The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away,” will stand with Abraham himself and be proclaimed with Job, by this word alone. And if he stops the wailing of the women and breaks up the choirs of mourners and rouses everyone to praise God, he will receive countless prizes from above and countless from below, as people admire him …

“And how is it possible,” someone says, “for one who is human not to mourn?” It is possible, if you consider how the patriarch and how Job, both of them men, suffered nothing of the kind, and that each of them lived before the Law and grace and the great wisdom of the commandments; if you reckon that the one who has died has moved to a better place and has leapt away to a better lot, and that you have not lost your son but have laid him up from now on in a place safe from harm. So do not say, “I am no longer called father.” Why are you no longer called so, when your son remains? Have you cast off your child? Have you lost your son? Rather you have gained him, and you hold him more securely. That is why you are called father no longer here only but in heaven too; so you have not lost being called father, but have gained being called so in a greater way. For you will be called the father no longer of a mortal child but of an immortal one, of a noble soldier who stands continually within the palace. Do not think that because he is not present he has perished. For if he had happened to be abroad, the name of kinship would not have left you along with his body. Do not then fix your eyes on the sight of the one lying there, for you fan the passion; but lead your mind away from the one lying there to heaven. That is not your child, the one lying there; your child is the one who has flown away and run up to an infinite height. So when you see the eyes closed and the mouth shut and the body motionless, do not think, “This mouth no longer speaks, these eyes no longer see, these feet no longer walk, but everything goes to corruption.” Do not say this, but the opposite: “This mouth will speak better, and the eyes will see greater things, and the feet will be lifted up on the clouds, and this body that is decaying will put on immortality, and I shall receive my son back more splendid.” But if what you see grieves you, say meanwhile to yourself, “This is a garment, and he has taken it off so as to receive it back more costly; this is a house, and it has been pulled down so as to become more splendid.” For just as we, when we are about to pull down houses, do not let those who live inside remain, but, so that they may escape the dust and the noise, tell them to move out for a short while, and when we have made the dwelling secure we bring them back in without fear, so God does too: having pulled down his decaying tent, he has taken him meanwhile into his Father’s house and to himself, so that when this tent has been pulled down and rebuilt he may give it back to him more splendid. So do not say, “He has perished and will be no more,” for these are the words of unbelievers; but say, “He sleeps and will rise; he has gone abroad and will come with the King.” Who says this? The one who has Christ speaking in him: “For if we believe,” he says, “that Jesus died and rose and lived, so too God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep through Jesus.” If then you seek your son, seek him there where the King is, where the army of angels is; not in the tomb nor in the earth, lest, while he has been so exalted, you remain dragging along the ground. If, then, we think in this wise way, we shall easily beat off every such pain. And may the God of mercies and Father of all comfort comfort the hearts of all of us, both of those pained by such things and of those held by some other grief, and grant them to be freed from all dejection, to reap spiritual joy, and to 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.

“If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation, which is made effective in the endurance of the same sufferings that we also suffer; and our hope for you is firm.”

Having stated one, the first, ground of comfort and consolation (this was sharing with Christ), he now adds this second one. It is this: that the salvation of those being taught is brought about by these afflictions. “So do not lose heart,” he says, “because we are afflicted, nor be troubled and afraid; for on this very account it would be more right for you to take courage. For if we were not afflicted, that would have destroyed you all.” How and in what way? “Because if we had grown soft and feared the dangers and had not preached the word to you, so that you learned the true knowledge, your state would be desperate.” Do you see again Paul’s force and his determination? From the very things that troubled them he comforts them. “The more our persecutions intensify,” he says, “the more your good hope ought to grow, since by so much the more your salvation increases, and your comfort.” For what is equal, by way of comfort, to obtaining such great goods through the preaching? Then, so as not to seem to draw the praise to himself alone, see how he makes them partners in these praises too. For having said, “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation,” he added, “which is made effective in the endurance of the same sufferings that we also suffer.” He puts it more clearly later, saying, “As you are partners in the sufferings, so also in the comfort”; but here, for the moment, he hinted at it by saying, “the same sufferings,” and so making the statement common. What he means is this: “Your salvation is not our work only, but yours as well. For we are afflicted in preaching, and you, in receiving the word, suffer the same things: we in order to impart what we received, you in order to receive what is given and not throw it away.” What could equal this humility, when he raises those who fell so far short of him to the same dignity of endurance? “Which is made effective,” he says, “in the endurance of the same sufferings.” “For your salvation comes about not only through believing, but also through suffering the same things as we and enduring them.” A pancratiast is admirable when he merely appears, in good condition and with his skill in him; but when he is in action, taking blows and striking his opponent, then above all he shines, because then above all his fitness is put to work and the proof of his skill is displayed. So too your salvation is made effective in a greater way, that is, is shown, increases, is intensified, when it has endurance, when it suffers and bears everything nobly. So the working of salvation is not doing evil but suffering evil. And he did not say “which works” but “which is made effective,” showing that along with their own eagerness grace also contributed much, working in them.

“And our hope for you is firm.” That is, “Even if you suffer countless dreadful things, we are confident that you will not be overturned, either by our persecutions or by your own. For we are so far from suspecting that you are troubled at what we suffer, that even when you yourselves are in danger we are confident.” Do you see how much progress they had made since the first letter? He bore them a far greater witness than he bore the Macedonians, whom he exalts and praises throughout that letter. For he feared for those, and says, “We sent Timothy to establish you and to exhort you concerning your faith, that no one be shaken by these afflictions; for you yourselves know that we are destined for this”; and again, “For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain.” About these he says nothing of the kind, but the opposite: “Our hope for you is firm.”

“If we are comforted, it is for your comfort and salvation, knowing that as you are partners in the sufferings, so also in the comfort.” That the apostles were afflicted for their sake he showed by saying, “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation.” Now he wants to show that they were comforted for their sake too. He had said this above as well, though without defining it: “Blessed be God,” he says, “who comforts us in all affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those in any affliction.” Here he says it again in another way, more clearly and … : “for your comfort.” What he means is this: “Our comfort becomes your consolation, even apart from our comforting you by word. If we only breathe a little, that is enough for your consolation; and if we are comforted, this becomes your comfort. For just as you consider our sufferings your own, so you count our comfort yours too. Surely, [sharing with us] in hardships, you will not fail to share in the better things. If then you share in everything, both in affliction and in comfort, you will not accuse us at all over this delay and slowness; for we are both afflicted on your behalf and comforted for your sake.” So that no one might think it burdensome to be told, “We suffer these things for you,” he says, “We are also comforted for you; and we are not alone in danger, for you too are partners in the same sufferings.”

So by taking them as partners in the dangers and ascribing to them the cause of his comfort, he softens the statement. “So if we are plotted against, take courage; for we endure this so that your faith may become stronger. And if we are comforted, you may take pride in this too; for it is for your sake that we enjoy these things, so that from this as well some consolation may come to you as you share in our pleasure.” And to see that he now speaks of this kind of comfort, which he reaped not only by being comforted by them but also by learning that they were at ease, hear what follows, by which he revealed it: “knowing that as you are partners in the sufferings, so also in the comfort.” “For just as you are pained when we are persecuted, as if suffering it yourselves, so we know that when we are comforted you yourselves [share in] these things …” … of the soul? He, who was so far ahead in dangers, calls partners those who endured not the smallest fraction of them; and in comfort he reckons the whole cause to them, not to his own labors.

Then, since he had spoken of afflictions without defining them, he now names the place where they endured them: “For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of our affliction that happened to us in Asia.” “We say this,” he means, “so that you may not be ignorant of what happened to us. For we want you to know our affairs, and we have been very eager about this”—which is the greatest sign of love. He had already intimated this in the first letter, saying, “For a great and effective door has opened to me, and there are many adversaries,” in Ephesus. Reminding them of those things, and relating how much he suffered, he says, “I do not want you to be ignorant of the affliction that happened to us in Asia.” He said this to the Ephesians too: sending Tychicus to them, he said that this was the reason for the journey. That is why he said, “So that you too may know my affairs, how I am doing, Tychicus, the beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord, will make everything known to you; I have sent him to you for this very purpose, that you may know how we are and that he may comfort your hearts.” He does this very thing in other letters too. And it is not superfluous but very necessary: partly because of the love he had for the disciples, partly because of the continual temptations, in which it was the greatest consolation to know each other’s affairs, so that when things were painful they might be prepared, on the alert, and more secure, and when they were good, they might rejoice together.

Here, however, he reports both the onset and the release of temptations, saying, “that we were weighed down beyond measure, beyond our strength,” like a ship going under with some great load. He seems to have said one thing in saying “beyond measure” and “beyond strength,” but it is not one thing but two. So that no one might say, “Well, the danger was beyond measure, but for you it was not great,” he added that it was both great and overcame our strength, and overcame it so far “that we despaired even of life,” that is, we no longer even expected to live. What David calls the gates of Hades, and pangs, and the shadow of death, this he too says: “We underwent a danger that would surely bring death.” “But we ourselves had the sentence of death in ourselves, so that we might not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.” What is “the sentence of death”? The verdict, the judgment, the expectation. Such was the voice the circumstances sent out, such the answer the events gave: that we would surely die. Yet this did not go as far as the reality, but stopped at our supposition. The nature of the circumstances declared it; but God’s power did not allow the declaration to pass into fact, but let it happen only in our thinking and expectation. That is why he says, “We had the sentence of death in ourselves,” not in the event. And why did he allow so great a danger that we despaired and gave up hope? “So that we might not trust in ourselves,” he says, “but in God.”

[4.] Paul said this not because he himself was so disposed (far from it), but to train others by what he said of himself, and at the same time out of eagerness to be modest. For further on he says, “A thorn was given me in the flesh” (meaning the temptations), “so that I might not be too elated.” And yet God says that he allowed them not for this reason but for another. Which? That his power might shine out the more: “My grace is sufficient for you,” he says, “for my power is made perfect in weakness.” But, as I said, he nowhere forgets his own character, numbering himself among those far inferior to him, who needed much training and correction. For if one or two temptations coming upon ordinary people are enough to sober them, how should he, who more than all men practiced humility throughout his life and suffered as no one else did, after so many years and a wisdom worthy of heaven, need such admonition? It is plain, then, that he is being modest here and [checking] those who thought highly of themselves … “so that we might not trust in ourselves but in God.” And see how he tends them in this way too. “The temptations,” he says, “were allowed to come upon us for your sake—so much does God honor you!—‘If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation’; but their excess was for our sake, that we might not be proud: ‘For we were weighed down beyond measure and beyond our strength, so that we might not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.’” Again he recalls the teaching about the resurrection, of which he said so much in the first letter, and confirms it from present events; that is why he added, “who delivered us from such great deaths.” He did not say, “from such great dangers,” at once showing how unbearable the temptations were and confirming that teaching I mentioned. For since the resurrection was a thing to come, he shows that it happens every day. When God draws up a man who has been despaired of and has come to the very gates of Hades, he shows nothing other than a resurrection, snatching the one who had fallen in from the very mouth of death. That is why many are accustomed to say, of those who have been despaired of and then recovered from a grave illness or unbearable temptations, “We have seen a resurrection of the dead in this man.”

“And we hope that he will deliver us yet again, you also helping together by your prayer for us, so that thanks may be given by many persons on our behalf for the gift granted to us through many.” Since the words “that we might not trust in ourselves” seemed to be a common charge and an accusation hinting at some of them, he softens what was said again, calling their prayers a great protection, and showing at the same time that our life must always be one of struggle. For by saying, “We hope that he will deliver us yet,” he foretells snowstorms of many temptations, yet never abandonment, but again help and alliance. Then, so that, hearing that they would constantly be in danger, they might not lose heart, he first showed the benefit of dangers: “so that we might not trust in ourselves,” that is, so that God may keep us in continual humility; and so that their salvation may be made effective; and many other benefits besides: sharing with Christ (“For the sufferings of Christ,” he says, “abound in us”); suffering for the faithful (“If we are afflicted,” he says, “it is for your comfort and salvation”); that this very salvation shines out more (“which is made effective,” he says, “in the endurance of the same sufferings”); becoming steadfast; and besides these, seeing the resurrection shining before our eyes (“who delivered us from such great deaths”); being always on the alert and looking constantly to him (“We hope,” he says, “that he will deliver us yet”); being devoted to prayers (“you also,” he says, “helping together by your prayer for us”). Having shown the gain of afflictions and made them alert, he again anoints their spirits and makes them more eager for virtue, bearing great witness to their prayers, since by these they had obtained Paul as a gift: “you also helping together by your prayer for us,” he says. What is “so that thanks may be given by many persons on our behalf for the gift granted to us through many”? “He delivered us from those deaths, you also helping together by your prayer,” he says; that is, all of you praying for us. “For the gift bestowed on us,” that is, our salvation, “he willed to grant to you all, so that the many persons might give him thanks, since the many also …”

He said this both to rouse them to prayers for others and to accustom them always to give thanks to God for what befalls others, showing that he himself especially wants this. For those who have practiced doing this for others will do both much more for themselves. Besides this, he also teaches them humility and leads them to a warmer love. For if he who was so far above them says that he was saved by their prayers, and that a gift was given him by God at their petitions, consider how they ought to feel and how modest they should be. And notice this too: even when God does something out of mercy, prayer contributes greatly here. At the beginning he ascribed his salvation to God’s mercies (“the God of mercies,” he says, “himself delivered us”); here, to their prayers as well. For God also had mercy on the one who owed ten thousand talents after he fell down before him, although it is said, “Moved with compassion, he released him”; and he granted the Canaanite woman her daughter’s healing after much persistence and endurance, although he saved her out of mercy. From this we learn that even if we are to receive mercy, we must first make ourselves worthy of mercy. For even if it is mercy, it seeks out the worthy; it does not come upon everyone indiscriminately, even on those who are insensible: “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and compassion on whom I have compassion.” See then what he says here too: “you also helping together by your prayer.” He neither gave them the whole, lest he puff them up, nor wholly excluded them from the achievement, so as to urge them on, make them more eager, and draw them together with one another. That is why he said, “He granted my salvation to you.” For God is often moved by a multitude that is of one mind and agrees in prayer; that is why he said to the prophet, “Shall I not spare this city, in which live more than twelve myriads of people?” Then, so that you may not think he respects mere numbers, he says, “Though the number of Israel be as the sand of the sea, the remnant will be saved.” How then did he save the Ninevites? Because there was not a multitude only, but a multitude with virtue; for each turned from his evil way. And when he saved them he said, “They do not know their right hand from their left.” From this it is plain that they had sinned earlier from simplicity rather than wickedness; and it is plain too from how they changed after hearing a few words. If the twelve myriads alone had had the power to save them, what prevented their being saved before this? And why did he not say to Jonah, “Shall I not spare this city that has so [changed]?” but brings forward the myriads? He adds this too as something over and above. The change was plain; but the number and the simplicity were not plain to [the prophet] … for a multitude too has power when virtue is present. … [So it is in] Scripture: “Earnest prayer was made by the church to God for him”; and it was so powerful that, though the doors were shut, chains laid on him, and guards sleeping on either side, it brought the apostle out and freed him from all of them. But as a multitude can do much when virtue is present, so when wickedness is present a multitude profits nothing. For the Israelites, of whom it says that their number was as the sand of the sea, all perished; and those in Noah’s time were many beyond counting, and it profited them nothing. By itself a multitude can do nothing; it helps only as something added.

Let us then be eager to come together in prayers, and let us pray for one another, as they did for the apostles. For we fulfill a commandment and are anointed for love (and when I say love, I mean all good things); and let us learn to give thanks more earnestly. For those who give thanks for the blessings of others will do so much more for their own. David did this, saying, “Magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.” The apostle seeks this everywhere; let us do it too, and [proclaim] God’s benefits to all. For if, when we receive some good from men, [we proclaim it and so make them more favorable to us,] much more, by proclaiming God’s benefits, shall we draw his favor to us all the more. And if, when we have been benefited by men, we rouse others too to share in our thanksgiving, much more ought we to bring many to God to give thanks on our behalf. For if Paul does this, who had such boldness, much more is it necessary for us.

Let us then ask the saints to give thanks for us, and let us do this ourselves for one another. This is above all the task of priests, since it is the greatest good. For when we approach, we first give thanks for the world and for the common blessings. For even if God’s benefits are common, you too were saved in the common salvation. So you owe thanks both for your own blessing as part of the common one, and it would be right for you to offer praise of your own for the common blessing. For he lit the sun not for you alone but for all; yet in your share you have the whole. For it was made so great for the sake of all, and you alone see as much as all people have seen. So you owe as much thanksgiving as all together; and it would be right for you to give thanks both for the common blessings and for the virtue of others. For we receive many good things because of others too. If only ten righteous men had been found in Sodom, they would not have suffered what they suffered. So let us give thanks for the boldness of others before God too. This law is ancient, planted in the church from the beginning. So Paul gives thanks for the Romans, for the Corinthians, for the whole world. And do not say to me, “The good deed is not mine.” Even if it is not yours, you ought still to give thanks, because your member is such. Besides, you make it your own by praising it, you share in the crowns, and you yourself will receive the gift.

That is why the laws of the church command that prayers be made in this way, not only for the faithful but also for the catechumens. For the law rouses the faithful to supplication for the uninitiated. When the deacon says, “Let us pray earnestly for the catechumens,” he does nothing other than rouse the whole people of the faithful to prayers for them. And yet the catechumens are still strangers. They are not yet of the body of Christ, they have not yet shared in the mysteries, but are still separated from the spiritual flock. If we must pray for these, much more for our own members. That is why he says, “Let us pray earnestly,” so that God may not reject them as aliens nor ignore them as strangers. For they do not yet have the prayer that was established and brought in by Christ; they have not yet acquired boldness, but need others who have been initiated. For they stand outside the royal courts, far from the sacred enclosures. That is why they are sent out when those awesome prayers are offered. That is why he urges you to pray for them, so that they may become your members, and no longer be strangers and alienated. For “Let us pray” is said not to the priests only but also to those who belong to the people. When he says, “Let us stand well, let us pray,” he calls everyone to the prayer. Then, beginning the prayer, he says, “That the all-merciful and compassionate God may hear their petitions.” So that you may not say, “[I am one of the people] …; where do I get the means to move God? How can I persuade him to grant them mercy and pardon?”—so that you may not be at a loss asking this, see how he resolves your difficulty, saying, “That the all-merciful and compassionate God.” Did you hear, “all-merciful God”? Be at a loss no longer; for the all-merciful has mercy on all, sinners and friends alike. Do not say, then, “How shall I approach on their behalf?” He himself will hear their petitions. And what would the petition of catechumens be, except that they may not remain catechumens?

Then he dictates the manner of the supplication. What is it? “That he may open the ears of their hearts.” For they are still closed and stopped up. He does not mean these outer ears, but those of the mind. “So that they may hear what eye has not seen and ear has not heard and has not entered into the heart of man.” For they have not heard the ineffable mysteries, but stand somewhere far off. And even if they hear, they do not know what is said; for those things need much understanding, not hearing only, and they do not yet have the inner ears. That is why he prays for a prophetic gift for them; for the prophet spoke thus: “God gives me the tongue of instruction, to know when to speak a word; for he opens my mouth; he gave to me in the morning; he added to me an ear to hear.” For as the prophets heard otherwise than the many, so do the faithful otherwise than the catechumens. From this the catechumen learns not to learn or hear these things from men (“Call no one teacher on earth,” it says), but from above, from heaven: “For they shall all be taught by God.” That is why he says, “And may he instruct them in the word of truth,” so that it may resound within them. For, as we must know, they do not yet know the word of truth. “That he may sow his fear in them.” But this is not enough; for some seed fell by the road, some on the rock.

But we do not ask in this way. Rather, as the plough opens the furrows in rich soil, so we pray that it may happen here, so that, being ploughed up in the depth of their mind, they may receive what is sown and hold fast with exactness everything they have heard. That is why he goes on to say, “And may he confirm his faith in their minds,” that is, so that it may not be spread on the surface but may strike its root deep. “That he may reveal to them the gospel of righteousness.” He shows that the veil is double: one because the eyes of their mind are closed, the other because the gospel is veiled to them. That is why above he said, “That he may open the ears of their hearts,” and here, “That he may reveal to them the gospel of righteousness”; that is, that he may both make them wise and fit to receive it, and teach them and sow the seeds. For if they are fit, but God does not reveal it, there is no benefit; and if he reveals it, but they do not receive it, the loss again comes round to the same. That is why we ask for both: that he may open their hearts and that he may reveal the gospel. For there is no gain from eyes that see if the thing is covered, just as there is none from its being uncovered if the eyes are not awake. Both come about if they first choose it. What is “the gospel of righteousness”? That which makes people righteous. By these words he leads them to desire baptism, showing that the gospel is not only of forgiveness of sins but also productive of righteousness.

“That he may give them a godly mind, sober reasoning, and a virtuous way of life.” Let the faithful hear this, all who are nailed to worldly affairs. For if we are told to ask these things for the uninitiated, consider in what state we who ask them for others ought to be; for one’s way of life must be a match for the gospel. That is why the order of the prayer passes from doctrines to the way of life. Having said, “That he may reveal to them the gospel of righteousness,” it added, “That he may give them a godly mind.” What is “godly”? That God may dwell in it: “For I will dwell in them,” he says, “and walk among them.” When the mind becomes righteous, when it has stripped off its sins, it becomes a house of God; and when God dwells in it, there will no longer be anything merely human in it. So the mind becomes inspired, uttering everything from there, as a house of God with God dwelling within. So the one who speaks shamefully does not have a godly mind, nor the one who delights in coarse jesting and laughter. “Sober reasoning.” And what is it to have sober reasoning? To possess health of soul; for one held by a desire for wickedness and agitated about present things would not be sober, that is, sound. And as the sick man desires even what is unsuitable, so does this man. “And a virtuous way of life.” For doctrines need a way of life. Hear this, you who go to baptism at the end of your life. We pray that after baptism you may also have a way of life; but you hasten and do everything so as to depart without one. For what of it, if you do become righteous, but from faith alone? We pray that you may also have the boldness that comes from good deeds. “To consider always his things, to think his things, to meditate on his things.” For we ask for sober reasoning and a virtuous way of life not for one day or two or three only, but through the whole of life and existence; and the foundation of all good things, to think his things. For “all seek their own, not the things of Jesus Christ.” How then could this come about? For along with prayer we must contribute our own part too: if we occupy ourselves with his law day and night. That is why he adds this request: “to occupy themselves with his law.” And as above he said “always,” so here he says “day and night.” That is why I feel shame because of those who scarcely appear in church once a year. What defense could they have who are commanded not simply to converse with the law but to occupy themselves with it day and night, that is, to dwell on it constantly, and who do this for not even the smallest part of their life? “To remember his commandments, to keep his ordinances.”

Do you see an excellent chain, and how each link holds on to the next, joined more securely and more beautifully than any golden chain? For having asked for a godly mind, he says how it might come about. How might it? By meditating on him always. And how might that happen? By attending constantly to the law. And how might people be persuaded to do this? If they kept his commandments; or rather, from attending to the law comes keeping the commandments too, just as from thinking his things and having a godly mind comes meditating on his things. For each of the things mentioned both helps to build the next and is built up by it, holding it together and being held together by it.

“Let us pray still more earnestly for them.” Since the soul is apt to fall asleep in a long prayer, he rouses it again. For he wants to ask for some great and lofty things again; that is why he says, “Let us pray still more earnestly for them.” What is this? “That he may deliver them from every evil and wrongful thing.” Here we ask for them not to enter into temptation and to be freed from every plot, bodily and spiritual alike. That is why he goes on, “From every devilish sin and every snare of the adversary,” meaning temptations and sins. For sin easily besets us, standing on every side, in front and behind, and so overthrows us. Since he has said what must be done on our part (to occupy ourselves with his law, to remember his commandments), [he shows] next that even these are not enough unless God himself is present and helps. “For unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it have labored in vain”; and especially with these, who still lie exposed to the devil and are under his rule. You who have been initiated know this. Remember, then, those words by which you renounced his tyranny, bending the knee and deserting to the King, and uttering those awesome words by which … And he calls him the devil, that is, the slanderer, since he slanders God to men and us to God, and again us to one another. At one time he slandered Job to God, saying, “Does Job worship the Lord for nothing?”; and again God to Job: “Fire came down from heaven”; and again God to Adam, when he said that their eyes would be opened; and God to many people of the present day, saying, “God does not provide for visible things, but has left your affairs to demons”; and to many of the Jews he slandered Christ, calling him a deceiver and a sorcerer. How he operates, someone perhaps wants to hear. When he does not find a godly mind, when he does not find a sober soul, when one does not remember God’s commandments nor keep his ordinances, then he takes him captive and goes off. Adam, at any rate, if he had remembered the commandment that said, “From every tree you shall eat,” if he had kept the ordinance that said, “On the day you eat, you shall surely die,” would not have suffered what he suffered.

“That he may count them worthy in due season of the washing of regeneration, of the forgiveness of sins.” We ask for some things present and some to come; and we teach the wisdom of the washing, and in the asking we instruct them to know its power. For from here the discourse already … and we are born again, from the waters as from a womb; so that they may not say, like Nicodemus, “How can someone be born when he is old? Can he enter his mother’s womb a second time and be born?” Then, since he mentioned forgiveness of sins, he confirms it by what follows: “of the garment of incorruption.” For one who puts on sonship plainly becomes incorruptible. What is “in due season”? When one is well disposed, when one approaches with eagerness and faith; for this is the due season of the believer.

“That he may bless their goings in and their goings out,” their whole life. Here they are told to ask also for something bodily, as being still weaker. “Their houses and their households,” that is, whether they have servants or relatives or any others belonging to them. For these were the prizes of the Old Covenant, and nothing seemed so dreadful as widowhood, childlessness, untimely bereavements, famine, or things not going prosperously for them. That is why he lets them ask for these too, raising them up little by little. Christ does this too, and Paul, recalling the old blessings: Christ when he says, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth”; Paul, “Honor your father and your mother, and you shall live long on the earth.” “That he may bless and increase their children, and [bring them] to the measure of [maturity] …”

Here again something both bodily and spiritual, as for those still in a more childish state. Then what follows is wholly spiritual: “That he may direct for them all that lies before them for their good.” Not simply what lies before them, but for their good. For often a journey lies ahead, but it is not beneficial; or some other such thing, but it is not profitable. From this they are taught to give thanks to God in everything, as happening for their good. And after all this he now bids them rise. For having first cast them to the ground, when they have asked what they asked and are filled with boldness, the word raises them up and bids them now to take up supplication to God themselves. Some things we say; others we entrust to them, already opening to them the doors of asking—just as with children we first teach them ourselves and then bid them speak for themselves—saying, “Ask for the angel of peace, you catechumens.” For there is an angel who punishes, as when it says, “a sending of evil angels”; there is a destroyer. That is why we bid them ask for the angel of peace, teaching them to seek peace, which is the bond of all good things, so as to be freed from every fight, every war, every faction. “That all that lies before you may be peaceful.” For even if something is burdensome, if it has peace it is light. That is why Christ said, “My peace I give to you.” For the devil has no weapon so strong as strife, enmity, and war. “Ask that this present day and all the days of your life may be peaceful.” Do you see how again he bids the whole of life be spent in virtue? “That your end may be Christian”: the chief of good things, what is honorable and beneficial. For what is not honorable is not beneficial either; for with us the nature of what is beneficial is different from the common opinion. “To commend yourselves to the living God and to his Christ.” For we do not yet entrust them with prayers for others; it is enough if they are able to pray for themselves.

Do you see a prayer complete, as regards both doctrines and way of life? For when we speak of the gospel, of the garment of incorruption, of the washing of regeneration, we have spoken all the doctrines; when of a godly mind, of sober reasoning, and of the other things we mentioned, we have pointed to the way of life. Then we bid them bow their heads, taking God’s blessing as a proof that the prayers have been heard. For it is not a man who blesses; but through his hand and tongue we bring the heads of those present to the King himself. And all shout the “Amen.”

Why have I said all this? To teach that we must seek the good of others, so that the faithful may not think it does not concern them when these things are said. For the deacon does not say to the walls, “Let us pray for the catechumens.” But some are so foolish and sluggish and dissolute that they stand and chatter not only during the time of the catechumens but also during the time of the faithful. That is why everything is turned upside down, why everything is ruined: because at the time when we must above all [propitiate] God … For at the prayers of the faithful we are bidden to approach God, the lover of humankind, for bishops, for presbyters, for emperors, for rulers, for land and sea, for the weather, for the whole world. When, then, we who ought to have such boldness as to pray for strangers do not pray soberly even for ourselves, what defense do we have? What pardon? So I urge you, considering all these things, to know the time of prayer, to be lifted on high, to be freed from earth, and to touch the very vaults of heaven, so that we may make God merciful and obtain the promised good things; 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. Amen.

“… not in fleshly wisdom, but in [the grace of God] we conducted ourselves in the world.”

[2.] Here again he reveals to us another ground of comfort, not a small one but a very great one, able to set upright a mind that is sinking under dangers. Since he had said, “God delivered us,” and had ascribed the whole to God’s mercies and to their prayers, so as not to make the hearer careless by this, relying only on God’s mercy and on the prayers of others, he shows that they themselves also contributed not a little of their own. He made this clear earlier too, saying, “As the sufferings of Christ abound, our comfort also abounds”; but here he mentions another achievement of their own as well. What is it? “That we conduct ourselves everywhere in the world with a pure and guileless conscience,” he says. “This brings us no small consolation and comfort; or rather, not comfort only, but something else much greater than comfort: a boast.” He said this both to teach them not to lose heart in afflictions but even to take pride in them when they have a pure conscience, and gently to strike at the false apostles. And as in the first letter he says, “Christ sent me to preach the gospel, not in wisdom of speech, lest the cross of Christ be emptied,” and, “that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God,” so here too he says, “not in wisdom, but in the grace of Christ.” By saying “not in wisdom” he also hinted at something else, that is, not in deceit, and in this way he strikes at the learning from outside. “For our boast is this,” he says, “the testimony of our conscience”; that is, our conscience, which has no ground to condemn us as men persecuted for wicked deeds. “For even if we suffer countless dreadful things, even if we are struck on every side and are in danger, it is enough for our consolation—or rather not only for consolation, but for our crowning—that our conscience is pure and testifies for us that we suffer these things not for anything wicked, but for what pleases God: for virtue, for wisdom, for the salvation of the many.” That first comfort, then, was from God; this one they themselves contributed, from the purity of their life. That is why he calls it a boast, because it was the achievement of their own virtue.

What then is the boast, and what does our conscience testify for us? “That in simplicity and godly sincerity”; that is, nothing deceitful, no hypocrisy, no irony, no flattery, no plotting and deceit, nothing else of the kind, but in all freedom, in simplicity, in truth, with a pure and guileless purpose, with an undeceiving mind, having nothing disguised or festering beneath. “Not in fleshly wisdom”: that is, not in villainy or wickedness, nor in cleverness of words or tangles of sophisms; this is what he calls fleshly wisdom. And the very thing on which they prided themselves he disowns and thrusts away, showing with great superiority that it is not worth boasting of, and that he not only does not seek it but beats it off and is ashamed of it. “But in the grace of God we conducted ourselves in the world.” What is “in the grace of God”? “Displaying the wisdom and the power given us by him, through signs, through overcoming wise men, orators, philosophers, kings, and peoples, though we were unlearned and brought nothing of the outside wisdom with us.” And it is no ordinary comfort and boast to be conscious that they did not use human power, but achieved everything by divine grace. “In the world”: not in Corinth only, but everywhere in the world. “And more especially toward you.” What is “more especially toward you”? “We conducted ourselves in the grace of God; for we showed signs and wonders among you, and greater strictness, and a blameless life.” For this too he calls the grace of God, ascribing his own achievements to it. For there he even went beyond the bounds, offering the gospel free of charge, because he spared their weakness.

“For we write you nothing other than what you read or also acknowledge.” Since he had uttered great things about himself and seemed to bear witness to himself, which was a burdensome thing, he again brings them forward as witnesses of what is said. “Let no one think,” he says, “that what is said is a boast of empty words; for we declare to you what you yourselves know. And you, before others, would know that we do not lie, that what you know of us in our deeds, this we say in our letters too; and your testimony does not contradict our letters, but the knowledge you had of us beforehand agrees with the reading.” “As you also have acknowledged us in part.” “For you know our affairs not by hearsay,” he says, “but from experience itself.” He said “in part” out of modesty. For this is his habit: when he says something great under the pressure of necessity (and he does not do it otherwise), he quickly tones down again the swelling of what has been said. “And I hope that you will acknowledge to the end …”

Do you see him again confirming the future from the past, and not from the past only, but also from the power of God? For he did not simply declare it, but cast the whole upon God and … the hope in him.

“That we are your boast, as you also are ours, in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Here he cuts away the envy that might arise from what he has said, making them sharers and partners in the glory of his achievements. “For it does not stop with us, but passes over to you, and again from you to us.” Since he had exalted himself, had given proof of the past, and had pledged the future, so that the hearers might not reproach him as one speaking boastfully nor, as I said, be carried away into envy, he makes the boast common, and says that this crown of praises is theirs too. “For if we appear such, our praise is your glory; just as, when you are well thought of, we exult and leap for joy and are crowned.” Here again he shows great humility by what he has said. For he speaks not as a teacher to disciples but as a disciple to fellow disciples of equal honor, and so he puts his speech on a level with them. And see how he makes them lofty and fills them with wisdom, sending them on to that day. “Do not speak to me of present things,” he says, “that is, the reproaches, the abuse, the mockery from the many; for nothing here is great, neither the good things nor the painful, neither the mockery nor the praises that come from men. But remember with me that fearful and awesome day, in which … all things laid bare. For then we shall glory in you and you in us, when you are seen to have such teachers, who teach nothing human, who have lived without wickedness and have given no handle to anyone; and we are seen to have such disciples, who suffer nothing human, who are not shaken, but receive everything with eagerness and are nowhere led astray. For now these things are plain to those who have understanding, but then they will be plain to all. So even if we are afflicted now, we have this consolation too, and not a small one: now the consolation from our conscience, and then also the one from the shining forth itself. For now our conscience knows that we do everything by the grace of God, as you also know and will know; but then all men will learn both our affairs and yours, and will see us glorified through each other.” So as not to seem to be the only one made splendid by his boasting, he gives them too a cause for boasting, and leads them away from present troubles. And what he did in the case of comfort, saying, “We are comforted for your sake,” he does here too, saying, “We boast because of you, as you do because of us,” everywhere making them partners in everything: in comfort, in sufferings, in salvation. For he reckons this salvation too to their prayers: “For God delivered us,” he says, “you helping together by your prayer.” So too he makes the boasts common. As there he says, “knowing that as you are partners in the sufferings, so also in the comfort,” so here, “We are your boast, as you also are ours.”

“And in this confidence [I wanted to] come …” In what confidence? “In being very confident about you, in boasting of you, in being your boast, in loving you greatly, in being conscious of nothing evil in myself, in being persuaded that everything with us is spiritual and that we have you as witnesses of it.” “I wanted to come to you, and to pass through you into Macedonia.” And yet in the first letter he promised the opposite, saying, “I will come to you when I pass through Macedonia; for I am passing through Macedonia.” How then does he say the opposite here? He does not say the opposite, far from it. These words are opposite to what he wrote, but not to what he wished. That is why here he did not say, “I wrote that I would go through you to Macedonia,” but, “I wanted to.” “For even if I did not write so,” he says, “yet I was eager and wished it; and before coming to you I was so far from wishing to fall short of my promise that I even wanted to anticipate it.” “So that you might have a second grace.” What is “second”? So that you might have a double grace, both the one through my letter and the one through my presence. By “grace” here he means joy. “And to pass through you into Macedonia, and to come back to you from Macedonia, and to be sent on by you to Judea.” “When I wished this, then, did I act with fickleness?”

[3.] Here at last he directly strips off the charge arising from his delay and absence. What he means is this: “I wanted to come to you. Why then did I not come? Was it as one light and easily swayed? For that is what ‘Did I act with fickleness?’ means. Not at all. Why then? Because what I plan I do not plan according to the flesh.” What is “not according to the flesh”? “I do not plan in a fleshly way.” “So that with me there should be ‘Yes, yes’ and ‘No, no.’” But this too is still unclear. What then is it he says? The fleshly man, that is, the one nailed to present things and always among them, and outside the working of the Spirit, can go anywhere and wander wherever he wishes; but the servant of the Spirit, who is led and directed by him, cannot be master of his own purpose in everything, since he has made it hang upon the authority from above. He is in the position of a slave in good standing who is dragged everywhere by his master’s orders, has no authority over himself, and cannot breathe freely even a little; if he promised something to his fellow slaves, and then his master decided otherwise, he could not carry out what he had announced. This, then, is what he says: “I do not plan according to the flesh; I am not outside the Spirit’s steering, nor do I have authority to go where I wish. For I am subject to the lordship and commands of the Paraclete, and I am led and directed by his decisions. That is why I could not come; for it did not seem good to the Spirit.” This happened often in the Acts as well: when Paul had decided to go to one place, the Spirit bade him go elsewhere. “So my not coming was not from my fickleness, that is, my lightness, but from the Spirit, since I was subject to him and obeyed.” Do you see again his customary skill? From the very thing by which they thought to show that he planned in a fleshly way, his not keeping his promise, from this above all he shows that he [planned] spiritually.

“What then?” someone says. “Did he not promise with the Spirit?” Not at all; for I have already said that Paul did not know beforehand everything that would happen and would be beneficial. That is why in the first letter he says, “so that you may send me on my way wherever I go,” not saying “to Judea,” lest he be forced to go elsewhere; but here, since he failed to come, he says it: “and to be sent on by you to Judea.” What belonged to love, coming to them, he states; what did not concern them, going to Judea, he no longer adds definitely. But since he has been proved true, he says confidently here, “to Judea.” And this happened for their good, so that none of them might have a higher opinion of him than he deserved. For if, even as things were, they wanted to sacrifice bulls to them, to what impiety would they not have overflowed if the apostles had not given many proofs of human weakness? And why do you wonder if he did not know all the future, when even in prayers he is often ignorant of what is beneficial? “For we do not know what to pray for as we ought,” he says. And he does not say this only to seem modest, but he also shows where he was ignorant in prayers of what was beneficial. Where then was he ignorant? When he asked to be freed from the temptations, saying, “A thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to buffet me. About this I besought the Lord three times, and he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” Do you see how he did not know how to ask for what was beneficial? That is why he did not receive it, though he asked many times.

“But God is faithful, that our word to you was not Yes and No.” He neatly removes an objection that arises. “For if,” someone says, “having promised to come you delayed, and with you it is not ‘yes, yes’ and ‘no, no,’ but what you say now you overturn afterwards, as you did with your visit, woe to us, lest this has happened in the preaching too.” So that they might not think this and be troubled, he says, “But God is faithful, that our word to you was not Yes and No.” “This did not happen in the preaching,” he says, “but only in our journeys and travels; in the preaching what we said remains firm and unshaken.” By “word” here he means the preaching. Then he gives an indisputable proof of this, referring the whole to God. What he means is this: “The promise of my visit was mine, and I promised it of myself; but the preaching is not mine nor human, but God’s, and God’s things cannot prove false.” That is why he said, “God is faithful,” that is, true. “Do not then suspect what is his; for there is nothing human in it.” And since he had said “word,” he next shows what word he means.

What word, then, is he speaking of? “For the Son of God,” he says, “who was preached among you by us, by me and Silvanus and Timothy, was not Yes and No.” This is why he brings the company of teachers into the midst, making the testimony trustworthy from this too, not only through those who heard but also through those who taught. And yet these were his disciples; but out of modesty he numbers them among the teachers. What is “was not Yes and No”? “I did not overturn,” he says, “what I said before in my preaching; I did not tell you now this, now that; for that would belong no longer to faith but to a mind gone astray.” “But in him it has become Yes.” That is, the word remains unshaken and firm. “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him, and in him their Amen, to the glory of God through us.” What is “all the promises of God”? The preaching promised many things, and they themselves announced and preached these many things. For they spoke of the resurrection, of the ascension, of incorruption, of the great prizes and of those ineffable good things. These promises, then, he says, remain unmoved, and there was no Yes and No in them; that is, what was said is not true at one time and false at another, as my visit was, but always true. First he contends for the doctrines of the faith and the word about Christ, saying, “My word and my preaching was not Yes and No”; then for the promises: “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him.” And if what he promised is firm and he will certainly give it, much more is he himself, and the word about him, firm; and one cannot say that he is now and now is not, but he always is, and is the same. What is “In him is the Yes and the Amen”? It shows what will certainly be. For the promises have their fulfillment and accomplishment in him, not in man. Do not be afraid, then; for it is not a man, that you should suspect it, but God, who both said it and fulfills it. “To the glory of God through us.” What is “to the glory through us”? He fulfills them through us, that is, through his benefits to us, to his own glory; for this is what “to the glory of God” means. And if it is to the glory of God, it will certainly come about. For he will not disregard his own glory, even if he should disregard our salvation; and that, too, because he greatly loves humankind. And besides, our salvation is bound up with his glory in these things. So if the promises are for his glory, our salvation will certainly follow too. This he repeats continually in the letter to the Ephesians, saying, “to the praise of his glory,” and he puts it everywhere, showing that the outcome is necessary. This is what he says here too: his promises do not lie, for they not only save us but also glorify him. So do not think, “They were announced through us,” and then doubt; for they are not fulfilled through us but through him; and the promises too are his; for we have spoken to you not our own things but his.

“But it is God who establishes us with you in Christ, and has anointed us, and has sealed us and given us the pledge of the Spirit in our hearts.” Again he confirms the future from the past. For if it is he who establishes us in Christ, that is, who does not let us be shaken from faith in Christ, and he himself who anointed us and gave the Spirit in our hearts, how will he not give what is to come? For if he gave the beginnings and the foundations, the root and the spring, namely the true knowledge of himself and the sharing of the Spirit, how will he not give what comes from these? For if those things are given for the sake of these, much more will he who gave these also grant those; and if he gave these to us when we were enemies, much more will he bestow those on us now that we have become friends. That is why he did not simply say “the Spirit,” but called it “the pledge,” so that from this you might be confident about the whole. For if he were not going to give the whole, he would not have chosen to give the pledge and lose it idly and in vain. And see Paul’s fair-mindedness. “Why need I say,” he says, “that the truth of the promises does not rest in us? Your very standing unshaken and firmly fixed does not rest in us, but this too is God’s. For it is God,” he says, “who establishes you.” So it is not we who make you firm; for we too need one who establishes us. So let no one think that the preaching is at risk because of us; God has taken the whole upon himself; the whole is his care. What is “anointed and sealed”? He gave the Spirit, through whom he did both, making us at once prophets and priests and kings; for in old times these classes were anointed. But we now have not one but all three dignities, and in a higher degree. For we are to enjoy a kingdom, and we become priests, offering our bodies as a sacrifice: “Present your members,” he says, “as a living sacrifice, pleasing to God”; and besides these we are made prophets too: “For what eye has not seen and ear has not heard, these things have been revealed to us.”

And we become kings in another way too, if we will master unruly thoughts. For that such a man is a king, and more so than the one who wears the diadem, I will now make plain to you. The king has many armies; but we too have more thoughts than they, for one cannot count the boundless multitude of thoughts within us. And not only a multitude is to be seen, but in this multitude of thoughts many [generals and captains, archers] and slingers too. What else makes a king? His robes? But this man too wears a better and finer robe, which neither moth eats nor time consumes. And he has a crown of many kinds: the crown of glory, the crown of the mercies of God (“Bless the Lord, O my soul,” it says, “who crowns you with mercy and compassion”); the crown of glory (“With glory and honor you have crowned him”); the crown of favor (“As with a shield of favor you have crowned us”); and the crown of graces (“For you shall receive a crown of graces on your head”). Do you see how this diadem is intricate and more beautiful? But let us examine the affairs of these kings again from the beginning, and more exactly. The one rules his bodyguards and commands everyone, and all obey and serve him; but I show you a greater rule here. The multitude is equal, or even greater; it remains to examine their obedience. And do not bring into the midst for me those who have fallen from their kingdoms and been slaughtered by their own bodyguards. Let us not bring these forward, but let us look for those who governed their kingdom well in both cases. You may set forth whichever kings you wish; but I set before you the patriarch … how many thoughts then rose up against him! Yet he subdued them all, and they all trembled before him more than bodyguards before a king; with a look alone he checked them all, and none of them dared even to mutter, but they bowed down and all gave way to him as to a king, though they were very sharp and very harsh. For the points of spears are not as fearful as those thoughts were then. Was not the sympathy of nature harder than spears? That is why they could cut his soul more than a sharpened point. For no spear could ever be as sharp as those thoughts, whose goads, sharpened and raised from below, from his very bowels, pierced through the righteous man’s mind. In the one case there is need of time and of deliberation, of a blow and of pain, and then death follows; but in the other there was need of none of these, so much swifter and keener were the wounds. Yet though so many thoughts were armed against him then, there was great calm, and all stood in good order, adorning him rather than terrifying him. See him, then, stretching out the knife, and set in the midst as many kings as you like, Augusti and Caesars: you will name nothing so great, nor be able to show such a posture, so noble and worthy of heaven. For against the mightiest tyranny that righteous man then set up a trophy; for nothing is more tyrannical than nature, though you set forth countless tyrants. Nature lay cast on the ground with its weapons and its whole army, and he stood with his hand raised, holding not a crown but a knife more splendid than any crown; and the people of angels applauded, and God proclaimed him from heaven. For since he lived as a citizen of heaven, from there he received the proclamation too. What is more splendid than this? Or rather, what could equal this trophy? For if, when an athlete had won, it was not a herald below but the king himself who rose from above and proclaimed the Olympic victor, would this not have seemed to him more splendid than the crowns, and would it not have turned the whole theater toward him? When then not a human king but God himself, not in this theater but in the theater of the world, before the people of angels and archangels, proclaims him, crying with a splendid voice from above, where shall we place this saint, tell me?

If you will, let us hear the voice itself. What then is the voice? “Abraham, Abraham, do not lay your hand on Isaac, nor do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, and you have not spared your beloved son for my sake.” What is this? Did he who knows all things before they come to be know it only now? And yet the man’s piety was plain even to a human being: he had given so many proofs of his devotion to God, when God said to him, “Go out from your land and from your kindred”; when, for God’s sake and out of honor to him, he yielded the first place to his nephew; when God rescued him from such great dangers; when God bade him go into Egypt, and when his wife was taken from him he did not complain; and many other things besides. And, as I said, even a man would have learned the man’s piety from these things, much less God, who does not wait to learn the outcome from events. How did he justify him without knowing? “For Abraham believed,” it says, “and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” What then is “Now I know”? The Syriac renders it, “Now you have made known,” that is, to men: “for I knew long ago, even before all those commands.” But why to men now? Were those earlier things not enough to show his goodwill toward God? They were enough; but this so far surpassed them that they seem nothing beside it. So it was to exalt this achievement, and show it higher than all, that he said these words. Many people too, when … surpass and outdo the former, are accustomed to speak so: when someone receives from another a gift greater than earlier ones, he often says, “Now I know that so-and-so loves me,” not meaning that he did not know it before, but wishing to show that what has now been given is greater than all. … the trophy then was an angel’s, not a man’s. Consider … God too, speaking in human fashion, says “I know,” wishing to show nothing other than the greatness of the contest, not that he then learned the fear, or the greatness of the fear. For when he says, [“Let us go down and see,” he does not say it] as one who needs to, for he fills all things and knows all things clearly, but to teach us not to pass judgment hastily. And when it says, “The Lord looked down from heaven,” it speaks of exact knowledge by a metaphor taken from men. So here too he says “Now I know,” showing that this was greater than all that went before. And he gives proof of this, adding, “You have not spared your beloved son for my sake.” He did not say “your son” only, but “your beloved son.” For he dared this against not nature only but also affection, which was great in him because of his own character and the virtue of the boy. If fathers would not easily give up even worthless sons, but mourn them too, when it is a son, and a true-born son, and an only son, and beloved, and Isaac, and he is to be slain by his father himself, who could tell the greatness of this wisdom? This contest is more splendid than countless diadems and boundless crowns. For on the man who wears that crown death often comes and does him violence, and before death countless plots from circumstances; but this diadem no one, not even after death, will be able to take away from the one who wears it, neither his own people nor strangers. And look, I pray you, at the most precious stone of this diadem. For as a precious stone binds a crown together, so he binds these words together at the end. What is this, “for my sake”? For the wonder is not that he did not spare him, but that he did so for God’s sake.

O blessed right hand, what a knife it was counted worthy of! O wonderful knife, what a right hand it was counted worthy of! O wonderful knife, for what purpose and in what place it served! How it was stained with blood, and how it was not! I do not even know what to say, so awesome was the mystery. It did not touch the boy’s neck, nor pass through the throat of that holy one, nor was it reddened with the blood of a righteous man; or rather, it both touched and passed through and was reddened and was dipped, and was not dipped. Perhaps I seem to you to be out of my mind, contradicting myself so. And indeed I am beside myself, considering the wonder of the righteous man; but I do not contradict myself. For the hand of the righteous man drove it into the boy’s throat; but the hand of God did not allow it, though driven in, to be defiled with the boy’s blood. For not Abraham alone held it, but God too; and the one pushed it on by his will, while God held it back by his voice. For the same voice both armed the right hand and disarmed it … everything was done at God’s nod, and everything served at his voice. Consider: he said, “Slay,” and at once the hand was armed; he said, “Do not slay,” and at once it was disarmed; for everything had been completed. And from then on God displayed the soldier and general to the world, the crowned victor to the theater of the angels, the priest, the king, crowned with the knife rather than with a diadem, the victor. For just as a general who has an excellent soldier might strike his adversary with dismay by the soldier’s skill at arms, his stance, and his strength, so too God, by the purpose, the posture, the stance alone of the righteous man, struck with dismay and put to flight the devil, the common enemy of us all. For I think that he too withdrew then, shuddering.

But if someone should say, “And why did he not let the right hand be dipped in blood, and then at once raise up the one who had been slain?” Because it was not lawful for God to receive such blood; such a table belongs to avenging demons. Here, however, both things were shown: the Master’s love for humankind and the servant’s fair-mindedness. Before, Abraham went out from his land; then he departed from nature itself. That is why he received his capital back with interest, and quite rightly; for he chose not to be called a father, so as to be shown a grateful servant. That is why he became not only a father but also a priest; and since he gave up his own for God’s sake, God bestowed on him his own as well, along with these things. When enemies [plot evil, God lets it go as far as the trial and then works wonders] …, as in the case of the furnace and of the lions; but when he himself gives the command, he stops the command at the willingness. For what, tell me, was still lacking to this feat? Did Abraham know the outcome beforehand? Was he trading on God’s love for humankind? For even though he was a prophet, a prophet does not know everything. So from then on the slaughter was superfluous and unworthy of God. And if he needed to learn that God is able to raise from the dead, he had learned this far more wonderfully from the womb; or rather, even before that proof, for he was a believer.

But do not only admire the righteous man; imitate him too. And seeing him, amid such great tumult and such a storm of waves, sailing as in calm weather, take the rudder of obedience and courage in hand yourself as well. Do not tell me only that he built the altar and laid the wood; but remember the boy’s voice too, and reckon how many snowstorms of armies came upon him, terrifying him, when the father heard the boy saying, “Where is the sheep?” Consider how many thoughts were stirred then, stabbing him on every side and cutting him through. For if even now many who are not fathers are broken down and would have wept, if they had not feared the outcome, and I see many weeping though they know the end, what must he probably have suffered, he who begot him, who nursed him, who had him in old age, who had only him, and such a son, who saw him, heard him, and was about to slay him at once? What understanding in the words! What gentleness in the question! Who then was at work—the devil—so as to set nature on fire? God forbid! It was God, so as to try the golden soul of the righteous man the more. For when Job’s wife speaks, the devil is at work, for such is her counsel; but this boy utters nothing blasphemous, but something very pious and thoughtful; much grace bloomed on the words, much honey dripped from the speech, flowing from a calm and gentle soul; and these words were enough to soften even a mind of stone. Yet they did not overturn that man of adamant, nor even shake him, nor did he say, “Why do you call ‘father’ one who a little later will not be your father, who has already lost this honor?” And why did the boy ask? Not out of mere curiosity or meddling, but in anxiety about what lay ahead. For he reflected that if his father had not wanted to take him as a partner in what was happening, he would not have left the servants to stay below and taken him alone. That is why, when they were alone, he asked him then, when no one could hear what was said. So great was the boy’s understanding! … Were you not all warmed, both men and women? Does not each of you embrace the child in his mind and kiss him, and admire his understanding, and revere the piety with which, though bound and laid on the wood, he was not terrified, did not struggle, did not condemn his father as mad, but was bound and lifted up and laid on, and bore everything in silence, like a lamb, or rather like the common Master of all? For he imitated his gentleness and kept his type: “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb before its shearer he is dumb.” And yet Isaac spoke; and his Master spoke too. How then was he dumb? That is, he said nothing self-willed or harsh, but all was gentle and mild, and his words showed his gentleness more than silence would have. For Christ also said, “If I have spoken wrongly, bear witness to the wrong; but if rightly, why do you strike me?” and showed his gentleness more than if he had been silent. And as Isaac speaks to his father from the altar, so Christ speaks from the cross, saying, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” What then does the patriarch say? “God will provide for himself a sheep for a whole burnt offering, my child.” Each calls the other by the names of nature, the one “Father,” the other “child.” A hard war is stirred up on both sides, a great storm, and nowhere a shipwreck; for wisdom masters everything. Then, when the boy heard “God,” he said nothing more and did not inquire further; so understanding was the child, even in the very bloom of his youth.

Do you see over how many armies the king prevailed, how many wars that came against him? For the barbarians were not so fearful to the city of Jerusalem when they attacked it many times as these thoughts were, besieging him on every side; yet he overcame them all. Do you wish to see the priest too? The example is not far off. When you see him holding fire and a knife and standing at the altar, why still doubt his priesthood? And if you wish to see the sacrifice too, see that it is double. For he offered a son, he offered a sheep too, or rather, before all, his own will; and with the blood of the sheep he sanctified his right hand, and with the slaying of his son, his soul. So he was ordained priest, by the blood of an only-begotten son, by the sacrifice of a lamb. For the priests too were sanctified by the blood of the victims offered to God. Do you wish to see the prophet too? “Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad,” it says. So you too become king and priest and prophet in the washing: king, when you have cast to the ground all wicked deeds and slain your sins; priest, when you have offered yourself to God, sacrificed your body, and been slain yourself too (“For if we have died with him,” he says, “we shall also live with him”); prophet, when you learn the things to come, become inspired, and are sealed. For as a seal is put on soldiers, so the Spirit is put on the faithful; and if you desert, you are plain to all. For the Jews had circumcision as a seal, but we the pledge of the Spirit. Knowing these things, then, and considering our own dignity, let us show a life worthy of the grace, that we may obtain the kingdom 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. Amen.

“[But] I call God as witness against my soul that it was to spare you that I did not come again to Corinth.” What are you saying, blessed Paul? You did not come to Corinth in order to spare them? Then you bring a contradiction into the discussion here. For above you said that you did not come because you do not plan according to the flesh, and are not your own master, but are led about everywhere by the authority of the Spirit, and you brought your afflictions into the midst; but here you say that not coming was your own doing, no longer a matter of the Spirit’s authority; for you say, “It was to spare you that I did not come to Corinth.” What then can be said? Either that this too was of the Spirit, and that Paul himself wished to come, but the Spirit suggested that he not come, putting forward the sparing of them as the reason; or else he speaks of another visit, showing that before he wrote the first letter he wished to come and held himself back out of love, so as not to arrive while they were still uncorrected. It is likely too that after the second letter, when the Spirit no longer prevented him, he stayed of his own accord for this reason. One may rather suppose that at the beginning the Spirit prevented him, but later he himself, reckoning that this was better, stayed. But notice, I pray you, how he again mentions himself—which I shall never cease to point out continually—commending himself from the very things that seem against him. Since it was likely that they would suspect this too and say, “You did not want to come because you hated us,” he shows the opposite: that he did not want to come because he loved them.

What is “to spare you”? “I heard,” he says, “that some among you committed sexual immorality; so I did not want to come and grieve you. For if I had been present I would have had to investigate the matter, to proceed against it, to punish, and to exact a penalty from many. I thought it better, then, to be absent and give room for repentance, than to be present and proceed against you and so provoke you the more.” Toward the end of the letter he hinted at this clearly, saying, “I fear that when I come my God may humble me before you, and I may mourn over many of those who sinned before and have not repented of the licentiousness and impurity that they practiced.” This, then, he indicates here too; and he speaks as if defending himself, while in fact he rebukes them most sharply and frightens them. For he hinted that they were liable to punishment and would suffer something if they were not quickly corrected. This again he says at the end of the letter: “If I come again I will not spare.” But there he says it more plainly; here, since this was the opening, he does not say it so, but in a guarded way. Nor is he content with this, but he soothes this very word again … [the word “spare”] shows great authority (for one spares those whom he has power to punish), so softening this very word and what seemed harsh: “[Not that we lord it over] your faith.” That is, “I did not say, ‘It was to spare you that I did not come,’ as one who lords it over you.” And he did not say “over you” but “over your faith,” which was both milder and truer. For who has power to force one who does not wish to believe? “But we are fellow workers for your joy.” “For since your joy is ours,” he says, “I did not come, so as not to throw you into grief and increase my own dejection; but I stayed, so that, corrected by the threat, you might rejoice. For we do everything for your joy, and we are eager for it, since we too share in it.” “For you stand by faith.” See again how guardedly he speaks. For he fears to touch them again, since he had struck at them sharply in the first letter and they had shown some change; and it would have upset them if, having changed, they again endured the same rebuke. That is why this letter is much milder than the first.

“But I determined this for myself, not to come to you again in sorrow.” “Again” shows that he had already been grieved by them; and while seeming to defend himself, he touches them without their noticing. And if they had already grieved him, and were going to grieve him again, consider how much unpleasantness was likely to arise. But he does not say, “You grieved me”; he handles the statement differently, hinting at the same thing and saying, “I did not come for this reason, so as not to grieve you”; which has the same force as what I said, but is more acceptable. “For if I grieve you, who is there to make me glad but the one whom I grieve?” What sort of sequence is this? A very close one indeed. Consider: “I did not wish to come to you,” he says, “so as not to grieve you more, rebuking, being indignant, turning away from you.” Then, since this too was severe and contained an accusation against them, if they were going to behave so as to grieve Paul, he uses a correction and says, “For if I grieve you, who is there to make me glad but the one whom I grieve?” What he means is this: “Even if I was going to be in sorrow, compelled to rebuke you and see you grieved, yet this very thing gladdened me. For it is the greatest proof of love that I am worth so much to you that I can sting you by turning away.” [3.] And see his understanding. What belonged to the very duty of disciples, to be pained and to feel it when they are rebuked, he presents as a favor they are doing him. “For no one gladdens me so much,” he says, “as the one who turns at my words and grieves when he sees me angry.” And yet the consistent thing to say would have been, “For if I grieve you, who is there that can gladden you?” But he does not say this; he turns it round again, tending them and saying, “Even if I grieve you, you do me the greatest favor in this, that you are stung by what I say.”

“And I wrote this very thing to you.” What thing? That “I did not come for this reason, to spare you.” When did he write it? In the first letter, when he said, “I do not want to see you now just in passing”? I do not think so, but in this very letter, when he said, “… lest when I come again my God humble me before you.” “I wrote this very thing,” he says, “toward the end: ‘lest when I come my God humble me.’” And why did you write it? “So that when I came I might not have sorrow from those who ought to make me rejoice, being confident in all of you that my joy is the joy of you all.” For since … this was rather self-willed and harsh, he turned it round again in another way and made it gentler by what he added. “For this reason,” he says, “I wrote to you beforehand, so that I might not find you in pain, uncorrected. That is why I said, ‘so that I may not be grieved,’ looking not to my own interest but to yours. For I know that if you see me rejoicing you rejoice, and if you see me [grieving] you are pained.” See, then, the sequence of what has been said from the beginning; for so the argument will be easier for us to follow. “I did not come,” he says, “so as not to grieve you, finding you uncorrected. And I did this looking not to my own interest but to yours. For when you are grieved I have no small pleasure, when I see you caring so much for me that you are grieved and pained when I am indignant: ‘For who is there to make me glad but the one whom I grieve?’ Yet even though I feel so, since I look to your interest, I wrote this very thing to you, ‘so that I may not be grieved’; and in this again I look not to my own interest but to yours. For I know that you too would be grieved to see me pained, just as you rejoice to see me rejoicing.” Consider, then, his understanding. He said, “I did not come so as not to grieve you”—“and yet I am gladdened,” he says. Then, so as not to seem to be gladdened when they are pained, he says, “I rejoice in this respect, in so far as I touch you; for in another respect I am grieved, when I am compelled to grieve those who love me so, not only by rebuking them, but because I myself am in sorrow and so grieve you again.” And see how he puts it with praise too, saying, “from those who ought to make me rejoice.” For this is the language of one who bears witness to true kinship and great affection, as if someone spoke of sons who had received many benefits and for whom he had labored. “If, then, I write for this reason and do not come, I do not come out of some great design, not hating you or turning away from you, but loving you greatly.”

Then, since he had said that the one who grieves gladdens, so that they might not say, “So this is what you are eager for, to be gladdened and to show everyone how much power you have?” he added, “For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you with many tears, not to grieve you, but that you might know the love that I have especially for you.” What is more affectionate than this soul? For he shows himself pained not less than those who had sinned, but far more. For he says not only “out of affliction,” but “out of much”; nor “tears,” but “with many tears and anguish of heart,” that is, “… and no longer bearing the cloud of dejection, I wrote to you, not that you should be grieved, but that you might know the love,” he says, “that I have especially for you.” Yet the consistent thing would have been to say, “not that you should be grieved, but that you might be corrected”; for that is why he wrote. But he does not say this; rather, sweetening his words and drawing them into greater affection, he puts this in place of that, showing that he does everything from love. And he does not simply say “love,” but “that I have especially for you.” For he wishes to draw them in this way too, by showing that he loves them more than all and is disposed toward them as toward chosen disciples. That is why he says, “If I am not an apostle to others, at least I am to you”; and, “Though you have many tutors, you do not have many fathers”; and again, “We conducted ourselves in the grace of God in the world, and more especially toward you”; and further on he says, “Though I love you the more, am I to be loved the less?”; and here, “the love that I have especially for you.”

[4.] So even if my words were full of anger, the anger came from much love and pain. And in writing … not only …, but because I was compelled to grieve you. And this too came from love; as one who has a true-born son with a festering sore, and is compelled to cut and cauterize, suffers on both counts, both because the son is sick and because he is compelled to cut him. So what you think is a sign of hating you was a sign of loving you greatly. And if grieving you came from love, much more being gladdened when you are grieved. Having defended himself, then (and he defends himself in many places and is not ashamed; for if God does this, saying, “My people, what have I done to you?”, much more Paul), having defended himself, then, and being about to pass on to the plea for the man who had committed sexual immorality, so that they might not be confused as though being ordered to do the opposite, and be contentious, since it was he who had then been angry and now bade them release the man, see how he prepared the way for it both by what he had said and by what he would say. For what does he say? “But if anyone has caused grief, he has not grieved me.” Having first praised them as rejoicing and grieving over the same things as he, he then launches into the discussion of this matter, saying first, “My joy is the joy of you all.” And if my joy is the joy of you all, [it is right that you rejoice] with me now too, just as you were pained with me then. For by what you grieved over you gladdened me; and by what you now rejoice over, if you are pleased, you will do the same. And he did not say, “My grief is the grief of you all,” but, having established this elsewhere, he now set down only what he needed, the joy, saying, “My joy is the joy of you all.” Then he recalls the former events too, saying, “But if anyone has caused grief, he has not grieved me, but in some measure, not to burden you all.” “I know,” he says, “that you were angry and indignant with me at the man who committed sexual immorality, and what happened grieved all of you in part. I said ‘in part,’ not because you were pained less than I, but so as not to burden that man who committed the sin. So he grieved not me only, but you equally; and to spare him I said ‘in some measure.’” Do you see how he at once relaxed their anger, by showing that they had shared in the indignation?

“For such a one this punishment by the majority is enough.” And he does not say “for the man who committed sexual immorality,” but again “for such a one,” as in the first letter; but not for the same reason: there out of shame, here out of mercy. That is why from now on he nowhere mentions the sin; for it was a time for pleading. “So that on the contrary you should rather forgive and comfort him, lest such a one be swallowed up by excessive sorrow.” He bids them not only to remove the punishment, but also to restore him to his former state. For if one merely releases a man who has been scourged and does not heal him, he has done nothing. But see how he checks that man again too, so that he may not become worse through the pardon. For even though he had confessed and repented, he shows that he receives the forgiveness not so much from his repentance as from the gift. That is why he says, “forgive and comfort.” And what follows shows the same thing again. For it is not because he is worthy, nor because he has shown sufficient repentance, but because he is weak, that he says, “I beseech you”; that is why he added, “lest such a one be swallowed up by excessive sorrow.” This was also to bear him witness of great repentance, and not to let him come to despair. What is “swallowed up”? Either by doing what Judas did, or by becoming worse while still alive. “For if he breaks away,” he says, “through not bearing the pain of an intensified rebuke any longer, often in despair he will go either to the noose or to greater wickedness from then on. We must therefore act beforehand, so that the wound may not become worse, nor may we lose by excess what we have achieved.” He said this, as I said already, both to check that man and to teach him not to become more careless after the forgiveness. “For I received him,” he means, “not as one completely washed clean, but as one fearing that he might do something worse.” From this we learn that penance must be fixed not only by the nature of the sins but also by the disposition and habit of those who sin; which is what the apostle did then. For he feared the man’s weakness, and that is why he said, “lest he be swallowed up,” as by a beast, as by a storm, as by a surge.

“So I beseech you.” He no longer commands but beseeches, not as a teacher but as an equal; and having seated them on the judges’ bench, he set himself in the rank of an advocate. For since he had achieved what he wanted, he uses supplication insatiably for joy. And what is it you beseech, tell me? “To confirm your love for him”; that is, to make it firm, not to receive him casually and as it may happen. This again bears witness to their very great virtue: that those who had loved and applauded the man so much as to be puffed up turned away from him so completely that Paul had to labor so hard to kindle their love for him again. This is the virtue of disciples, this the virtue of teachers: that they were so docile, and that he governed them so well. If this happened now too, sinners would not offend so insensibly. For one must neither love without discrimination nor turn away without some reason.

“For this is why I wrote to you, to know your proven character, whether you are obedient in everything,” not only in cutting off but also in joining again. Do you see how here too he sets the contest about them? For as, when the man sinned, he made them anxious lest they fail to cut him off, saying, “A little leaven leavens the whole lump,” and much else, so here again he sets before them the fear of disobedience, all but saying, “As then you had to take counsel not for him but for yourselves, so now too you must take counsel not for him more than for yourselves, lest you seem contentious and inhuman, and not obedient in everything.” That is why he says, “For this is why I wrote to you, to know your proven character, whether you are obedient in everything.” For the former might have seemed to come even from envy and malice; but this shows above all that obedience is pure, and whether you are fit for kindness. For this belongs to fair-minded disciples: to obey not only in those things but also when bidden the opposite. That is why he said “in everything,” showing that if they did not obey, they would condemn not him so much as themselves; [he said] this to push them toward being persuaded from this side too. That is why he says, “For this is why I wrote to you,” although he did not write for this reason; but he says so to draw them, for the main purpose was that man’s salvation. But where nothing is harmed, he gratifies them too. By saying “in everything” he again brought obedience into the midst.

“Anyone whom you forgive, I forgive too.” Do you see how again he gives himself the second place, showing them as leading and himself as following? This is to soften a mind that has grown harsh, this is to dissolve contentiousness. Then, so that they might not become careless as being masters, and refuse to release the man, he again presses them to it, saying that he himself had forgiven: “For what I have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, has been for your sake.” “For this very thing I did for your sake,” he says. And as, when he bade them deliver him up, he did not let them be masters of forgiving him, saying, “I have already judged to deliver such a one to Satan,” and again made them partners in the verdict without their noticing, saying, “when you are assembled, to deliver him up,” so contriving two very great things—that the sentence was passed, and that it was not passed without them, so as not to seem to strike them in this way; he neither pronounces it alone, so that they might not think him self-willed and themselves slighted, nor entrusts the whole to them, so that, becoming masters, they might not betray the sinner by forgiving him out of season—so he does here too, saying, “I have already forgiven, I who in the first letter have already judged.” Then, so that they might not be hurt as though slighted, he says, “for your sake.” What then? Did he pardon to please men? No; that is why he added, “in the presence of Christ.” What is “in the presence of Christ”? Either “according to God,” he says, or “for the glory of Christ.” “So that we may not be outwitted by Satan; for we are not ignorant of his designs.” Do you see how he both entrusts the authority to them and takes it away again, so as to soften them by the one and cut off their self-will by the other? And not only this from here, but also to show that the harm would be common if they disobeyed, which he did at the beginning too. For then he said, “A little leaven leavens the whole lump”; and here again, “So that we may not be outwitted by Satan.” And everywhere he makes the forgiveness both his and theirs.

[5.] Consider from the beginning: “But if anyone has caused grief,” he says, “he has not grieved me, but in some measure, not to burden you all”; then again, “For such a one this punishment by the majority is enough.” This is his verdict and judgment. But he did not stop at his verdict; he makes them partners again, saying, “So that on the contrary you should rather forgive and comfort him. So I beseech you to confirm your love for him.” Having again made the whole theirs, he passes over to his own authority, saying, “For this is why I wrote to you, to know your proven character, whether you are obedient in everything.” Then again he makes the forgiveness theirs, saying, “Anyone whom you forgive”; then his own, saying, “I too; for what I have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, has been for your sake”; then both theirs and his: “For I too,” he says, “if I have forgiven anything, for your sake in the presence of Christ,” either for the glory of Christ, or as if Christ too commanded this; which persuaded them most of all. For from then on they were afraid not to forgive a thing that passed into his glory and pleased him. Then again he sets down the common harm if they disobeyed, saying, “So that we may not be outwitted by Satan,” rightly calling it outwitting; for he no longer takes what is his own but snatches what is ours. “And do not tell me only that this man becomes the prey of the beast; consider this too, that the number of the flock is reduced, and especially now, when it can recover what it lost.” “For we are not ignorant of his designs”: that he destroys even under a pretext of piety. For he can destroy not only by leading into sexual immorality, but also from the opposite, by immoderate grief over repentance. When, then, he takes ours along with his own, when he destroys by bidding men sin, and snatches them away when we bid them repent, how is the thing not outwitting? For it is not enough for him to cast down through sin; he does this through repentance too, if we are not sober. That is why he rightly called it outwitting, when he prevails even through what is ours. For to take men through sin is his own; but through repentance is not; for that weapon is ours, not his. When, then, he is able to take men even from there, consider how shameful the defeat is, how he will mock and assail us as weak and wretched, if he is to subdue us with our own weapons. For it is utterly ridiculous and the height of shame that he should make wounds with our own medicines. That is why he said, “For we are not ignorant of his designs,” displaying his variety, his deceit, his wicked contrivance, his villainy, his doing harm under a pretext of piety.

Considering these things, then, let us never despise anyone, and never despair when we sin; nor again, being careless, let us simply put forward words. For I know many who say they mourn their sins but do nothing great. They fast and wear rough garments, but they long for money more than tradesmen, they are captured by anger more than beasts, and they delight in slander more than others do in praise. This is not repentance; it is an image of repentance and only a shadow, not repentance. That is why with these too it is well to say, “Take care that we are not outwitted by Satan; for we are not ignorant of his designs.” For some he destroys through sins, others through repentance, and these again in another way, by letting them reap no fruit from repentance. For since he did not find a way to destroy them directly, he came by another road, increasing their labors but taking away the fruits, and persuading them, as if they had achieved everything, to neglect the rest. So that we may not beat ourselves in vain, let us say a few words to such women; for this disease belongs above all to women. What you are doing now is good—fasting, sleeping on the ground, ashes; but when the other things are not present, there is no profit in these. God has shown how he forgives sins; why then do you leave that road and cut another for yourselves? The Ninevites once sinned, and they did these things that you are doing now; but let us see what helped them. As with the sick, the doctors apply many things, but the sensible man does not consider that the patient did this and that, but what helped him; so here too we must consider what helped those barbarians. They applied fasting to their wounds, and a severe fast; they applied sleeping on the ground, putting on sackcloth, ashes, and lamentations; they applied a change of life too. [6.] Let us see, then, which of these made them well. “And how shall we know?” someone says. If we go to the physician, if we ask him; for he will not hide it from us, but will tell us gladly. Or rather, so that no one may be ignorant or need to ask, he has written down the medicine that raised them up. What then is it? “God saw,” it says, “that each turned from his evil way, and he repented of the evil that he had said he would do to them.” He did not say, “He saw fasting and sackcloth and ashes.” And I do not say this to do away with fasting—God forbid—but urging you to do what is better than fasting: to abstain from all wickedness. David too sinned; let us see how he too repented. He sat on ashes for three days. But he did this not for the sin but for the child, still drunk with grief; the sin he wiped away otherwise: by humility, by contrition of heart, by compunction of soul, by not falling into the same things again, by remembering it continually, by bearing thankfully everything that came upon him, by sparing those who grieved him, by not taking revenge on those who plotted against him, and even by restraining those who wished to do so. When Shimei poured countless reproaches upon him, and the general who was present was indignant, he said, “Let him curse me, for the Lord has bidden him.” For he had a broken and humbled heart, which above all wiped away his sins; for this is confession, this is repentance. But if we fast and are boastful, not only do we gain nothing, we are harmed. Humble your heart, then, you too, so that you may draw God to you: “For the Lord is near to the brokenhearted.” Do you not see in splendid houses those who have been disgraced, how they do not answer back even when lesser servants insult them, but bear it because of the disgrace that sin has put upon them? Do so yourself: if someone abuses you, do not grow savage, but groan—not at the insult, but at the sin that cast you into disgrace. Groan when you sin, not because you will be punished—for that is nothing—but because you have offended your Master, who is so gentle, who loves you so, who hangs so upon your salvation that he gave up even his Son for you. Groan for these reasons, and do this continually; for this is confession. Do not be cheerful now, gloomy tomorrow, then cheerful again; but remain always in mourning and in breaking yourself. “For blessed,” he says, “are those who mourn,” that is, those who do this continually. Continue doing this always, attending to yourself and breaking your heart, as one would mourn who had lost a true-born son. “Rend your hearts,” it says, “and not your garments.” What has been rent cannot be puffed up; what is broken cannot rise up. That is why one says, “Rend,” and the other says, “A broken and humbled heart God will not despise.” Even if you are wise, or rich, or powerful, rend your heart; do not let it be proud or puffed up. For what has been rent does not swell; even if something lifts it, it cannot hold the swelling because it has been rent. So you too be humble. Consider that the tax collector was justified by one word; and yet that was not even humility, but a true confession. If this has such power, how much more humility? Forgive the sins of those who have offended against you; for this too forgives sins. Of the former it says, “I saw that he went about gloomy, and I healed his ways”; and in the case of Ahab too this loosed God’s wrath; of the second, “and it will be forgiven you.” There is another road again that brings us this medicine: the condemnation of our offenses: “Declare your iniquities first, that you may be justified.” And giving thanks when one suffers ill looses sins; and almsgiving, greater than all. Count, then, the medicines that heal your wounds, and apply them all continually: humility, confession, not bearing grudges, giving thanks when you suffer ill, showing mercy by money and by deeds, praying persistently. So the widow appeased the cruel and harsh judge. If she appeased the unjust one, much more will you appease the gentle one. With these there is yet another road: standing up for those who are wronged. “Judge,” it says, …

“When I came to Troas for the gospel of Christ, and a door was opened for me in the Lord, I had no rest in my spirit, because I did not find Titus my brother.”

These words seem unworthy of Paul, if because of a brother’s absence he let slip so great a chance of salvation; they seem also to be detached from the sequence. What then? Do you want us to show first that they hang on the sequence, or that he has said nothing unworthy of himself? I think the second; for so the first will also be easier and clearer for us. How then do these words hang on what went before? Let us recall those earlier words, and so we shall know it. What were they? What he said at the beginning: “I do not want you to be ignorant,” he says, “of the affliction that happened to us in Asia, that we were weighed down beyond measure, beyond our strength.” And having shown how he was delivered, and having put in what lies between, he necessarily teaches again that he was afflicted in another way too. How and in what way? By not finding Titus. For it is a dreadful thing, able to cast down a soul, even to endure temptations; but when the one who consoles is also absent, the one able to help carry the load, the storm becomes greater. And this Titus is the one who, as he says further on, came to him from them, on whom he spends much great praise, and whom he said he had sent. Wishing, then, to show that in this way too he was afflicted on their account, he said these things. That what is said hangs on what went before is plain from this; that it is not unworthy of Paul either, I will try to show too. For he does not say that the absence of Titus hindered the salvation of those who were to come in, nor that he neglected those who had believed because of it, but that he had no rest, …

[The end of Homily 4, displaced in the scan text:] “… [defend] the fatherless and plead for the widow; and come, let us reason together; and though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them white as snow.” What defense could we deserve, then, if, having so many roads leading up to heaven and such medicines to heal our wounds, we remain even after the washing in the same sins? Let us not remain in them, then; but let those who have not yet fallen remain in their own beauty, or rather cultivate it still more (for even where these good deeds find no sins, they make the beauty greater); and let us who have offended much use what has been said for the correction of our sins, so that we may stand before the judgment seat of Christ with great boldness; 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.

[Homily 5 continues:] … because of his brother, showing how great a thing the absence of a brother is. And “to Troas for the gospel”? “I did not simply travel there,” he says, “but to preach. Yet though I came for this and found a very great work—for ‘a door was opened for me in the Lord’—I had no rest,” he says; yet he did not for this reason hinder the work. How then does he say, “Taking leave of them I went away”? That is, “I did not spend more time there, being distressed” … Titus being absent. This too is no small consolation for them. “For if there, with a door opened, and having come for this very purpose, he left quickly because he did not find his brother, much more ought you,” he says, “to make allowance for the necessities of affairs, which drive us about everywhere and do not let us either travel as we wish or stay longer with those we wish.” That is why he goes on again, ascribing his travels to God here, as above to the Spirit, and says, “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him in every place.” What he means is this: “Everywhere affliction, everywhere distress. I came to Asia, I was weighed down beyond my strength; I came to Troas, I did not find my brother; I did not come to you. This too caused me no small dejection, but a very great one, both because many among you had sinned and because for this reason I did not see you.” (“For it was to spare you that I did not come again to Corinth,” he says.) … that is why he left there. So as not to seem to be lamenting in saying this, he adds: “We not only are not pained in these afflictions, but we even rejoice; and what is more, not only because of the prizes to come, but because of these present things themselves; for even here we are made splendid and conspicuous by them. So far, then, are we from lamenting that we even call the thing a triumph, and pride ourselves on what happens.” That is why he said, “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph,” that is, who makes us conspicuous to all. “For what seems to be a disgrace, being driven about everywhere, this appears to us the greatest honor.” That is why he did not say, “who makes us honorable,” but “who leads us in triumph,” showing that these persecutions set up continual trophies against the devil everywhere on earth. Then, having put with “who leads in triumph” the cause as well, he lifts up the hearer from this too: “For we are led in triumph not only by God, but in Christ,” that is, because of Christ and the preaching. “For when there must be a triumph, it is wholly necessary that we who carry the trophy [be seen by all]. That is why we are gazed at and conspicuous.”

“And through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him in every place.” [2.] Above he said “always leads us in triumph”; here he says “in every place,” showing that every place and every time is filled with the contests of the apostles. And he uses another metaphor again, that of fragrance. “For as men carrying perfume, so we are plain to all,” he says, calling knowledge a costly perfume. And he did not say “the knowledge” but “the fragrance of knowledge.” For such is our present knowledge, not very clear nor uncovered. That is why in the first letter he said, “For now we see through a mirror, in a riddle”; and here he calls such a perfume a fragrance. One who knows the fragrance knows that there is perfume lying somewhere, but not what kind it is in substance, unless he happens to have known it before. So too we know that God is, but not what he is in substance. We are like a royal censer, then, breathing out the heavenly perfume and the spiritual fragrance wherever we go. He said this, at the same time showing the power of the preaching too: that through the very things by which they are plotted against, they shine more than their persecutors, and make the whole world know both their trophies and their fragrance; and he exhorts them, concerning afflictions and temptations, to bear everything nobly, since even before the recompense they reap unspeakable glory.

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.” “For whether someone is saved,” he says, “or perishes, the gospel keeps its own virtue. And as light, though it darkens the weak-sighted, is light even when it darkens, and honey, though it is bitter to the sick, is sweet by nature, so too the gospel is fragrant, even if some perish through not believing. For the destruction is not its work, but that of their perversity.” And in this way above all its fragrance appears: in that the corrupt and wicked perish. So its virtue is shown not only from the salvation of the good, but also from the destruction of the wicked. For the sun too, because it is very bright, especially strikes the eyes of the weak; and the Savior is for the fall and rising of many, yet he remains a Savior even though countless fall; and his coming punished more severely those who did not obey, yet it remains saving. That is why he himself says, “We are an aroma to God,” that is, “Even if some perish, we remain what we are.” And he did not simply say “an aroma,” but “to God.” And when we are an aroma to God, and he decrees this, who will gainsay it any longer? And “the aroma of Christ” seems to me to admit a double explanation. Either he means that they offered themselves as a sacrifice in dying, or that we are the fragrance of Christ’s slaughter, as one might say, “This incense is the fragrance of this sacrifice.” This, then, is what the word “fragrance” suggests; or, as I said already, that they are daily sacrificed for Christ’s sake. Do you see to what height he raised the temptations, calling them a triumph and a fragrance and a sacrifice offered to God?

Then, since he said, “We are an aroma, even among those who are perishing,” so that you might not think that those too are acceptable, he added, “To the one an odor from death to death, to the other an odor from life to life.” For some receive this fragrance so as to be saved, others so as to perish. So even if someone perishes, the cause is from himself; for perfume is said to choke swine, and light, as I said already, to darken the weak. And such is the nature of good things: they not only set right what is akin to them but also destroy what is contrary; and in this above all their power is displayed. For fire too displays its own strength most, and shows itself fire, not only when it gives light, nor when it purifies gold, but also when it consumes thorns; and Christ too displays his majesty in this, when he will consume the Antichrist with the breath of his mouth and destroy him by the appearance of his coming. “And who is sufficient for these things?” Since he had uttered great things—that we are a sacrifice of Christ and a fragrance, and are led in triumph everywhere—he again speaks modestly, ascribing everything to God. That is why he says, “And who is sufficient for these things?” “For the whole is Christ’s,” he says; “nothing is ours.” Do you see him speaking in opposition to the false apostles? For they boast as contributing something of their own to the preaching, whereas he says he boasts for this very reason, that nothing of it is his own: “For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, that not in fleshly wisdom but in the grace of God we conducted ourselves in the world.” And what they thought it a boast to possess—I mean the wisdom from outside—he thought it a boast to do away with. That is why here too he says, “And who is sufficient for these things?” And if we are not sufficient, what happens is of grace.

“For we are not, like the rest, peddlers of the word of God.” “… we have said it is an achievement [of ours], but everything is Christ’s; for we will not imitate the false apostles, who say that most of it is theirs.” For this is what it is to peddle: when one adulterates the wine, when one sells for money what ought to be given free. For here he seems to me to mock them about money too, and to hint again at what I said, namely that they mix their own things with the divine; which Isaiah too charged, saying, “Your dealers mix the wine with water.” For even if this was said of wine, one would not go wrong in taking it of teaching too. “But we are not so,” he says, “but such as …” the word. That is why he added, “But as from sincerity, as from God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ.” “We do not preach in this way to deceive you,” he says, “as gratifying you, or contributing and mixing in something of our own; but as from God.” That is, “We do not say that we bestow anything of our own, but that God has given everything”; for this is what “from God” means: boasting of nothing as one’s own, but referring everything to him. “We speak in Christ”: “sounding forth nothing by our own wisdom, but by the power from him.” But those who boast do not do so, but speak as contributing something of their own. That is why elsewhere he ridicules them, saying, “For what do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if you had not?”

This is the greatest virtue: to ascribe everything to God, to consider nothing one’s own, to do nothing for the glory of men, but for what pleases God; for it is he who demands the account. But now the order has been reversed: the one who will sit on the judgment seat and demand the account we do not much fear, while those who stand with us and are judged with us we dread. Where then does this disease come from? How did it fall upon our souls? From not reckoning continually on the things there, but being nailed to present things. From this we fall easily into wicked deeds, and if we do something good we do it for display, so that from this too comes our loss. Someone has often looked at a woman with licentious eyes, and escaped the notice both of the woman seen and of those walking with him; but he did not escape the sleepless eye. For that eye, even before the sin was committed, saw the licentious soul, and the madness within, and the thoughts turning in storm and surge; for he who knows all needs no witnesses or proofs. So do not look to your fellow servants; for even if a man praises you, it is no gain when God does not accept you; and if a man condemns you, it is no harm when God does not condemn you. Do not then provoke the judge in this way, making much account of your fellow servants and [not trembling] at him when he is angry. Let us [despise], then, the praise of men. How long shall we be mean and groveling? How long, when God lifts us to heaven, shall we be eager to drag ourselves along the ground? If Joseph’s brothers had had the fear of God before their eyes as they ought, they would not have killed their brother secretly in the wilderness. Again, if Cain had feared God’s verdict as he ought, he would not have said, “Come, let us go out into the field.” Why, wretched and miserable man, do you separate him from his father and lead him out into the wilderness? Does God not see the outrage in the field too? Were you not taught by what happened to your father that he knows everything and is present to everything that happens? And why did God not say to him, when he denied it, “Are you hiding from me, who am present everywhere and know secret things?” Because he did not yet know well how to be wise about these things. But what does he say? “The voice of your brother’s blood cries to me”; not as if the blood had a voice, but as we say, “The thing cries out,” of things plain and clear. So we must keep the [fear] of God before our eyes, and all evils are quenched. So too we can be sober in prayers, if [we consider] that we are offering a sacrifice and have a knife in our hands, and fire and wood; if in thought we open wide the gates of heaven; if we move ourselves there, and taking the sword of the Spirit plunge it into the throat of the victim, and sacrifice sobriety to him, and pour out tears to him. For such is the blood of this victim; with such slaughter that altar is reddened. So at that time let none of your human thoughts hold your soul.

Consider that Abraham too, when he went up to offer sacrifice, let neither wife nor servant nor anyone else be present. So you too let none of the slavish and ignoble passions be present with you; but go up alone onto the mountain where he went up, where it is lawful for no one else to go up. And if any such thoughts try to go up with you, command them with authority and say, “Sit here; I and the boy will worship and come back.” And leaving below the donkey and the servants, everything irrational and foolish, and taking whatever is rational, as he took Isaac, go up. And build the altar as he did, as one who has nothing human, but has gone outside nature; for he too, if he had not been outside nature, would not have [offered] his son. And let nothing trouble you then, but become higher than the heavens themselves. “[Declare] your iniquities first,” it says, “that you may be justified.” Sacrifice contrition of heart. These victims do not end in ashes, nor dissolve into smoke, nor need wood and fire, but only a mind pierced with compunction; this is the wood, this the fire that burns them and does not consume them. For one who prays with fervor burns and is not consumed, but like gold tried in the fire becomes brighter.

Along with these, guard against this too: say nothing in your prayer that provokes your Master, and do not come to him against your enemies. For if having enemies is a reproach, consider how great a one it is to pray against them. When you ought to defend yourself for having enemies, you even accuse them. And what pardon will you obtain, accusing, and at such a time, when you need much mercy? For you have come asking pardon for your own sins; do not then recall the sins of others, lest you call your own to mind. For if you say, “Strike my enemy,” you have stopped your own mouth; you no longer give your tongue boldness: first, because you have provoked the judge at the very outset; second, because you ask for things contrary to the posture of prayer. For if you pray for forgiveness of sins, how can you plead for punishment? You ought to do the very opposite and pray for them, so that we may ask this for ourselves too with boldness. But now you have anticipated the judge’s verdict by your own, demanding that sinners be punished; which deprives you of all pardon. But if you pray for them, even if you say nothing about your own sins, you have achieved everything. Consider how many sacrifices there are in the Law: the sacrifice of praise, the sacrifice of thanksgiving, the sacrifice of peace, the sacrifice of purifications, and countless others; and none against enemies, but each for one’s own sins or good deeds. Are you approaching another God? You are approaching him who said, “Pray for your enemies.” How then do you cry out against them? How do you beseech God to break his own law? This is not the posture of a suppliant; no one supplicates that another may perish, but that he himself may be saved. Why then do you wear the posture of a suppliant but have the words of an accuser? And when we pray for ourselves, we even yawn; but when we pray against our enemies, we do it wide awake. For since the devil knows that [the sword is turned] against ourselves, … so that he may ruin us.

“But I have been wronged,” someone says, “and I am afflicted.” Then pray against the devil, who wrongs us most of all. This you were bidden to say: “Deliver us from the evil one.” He is the irreconcilable enemy; but a man, whatever he does, is a friend and a brother. Let us all, then, be angry with him [the devil] … and beseech God against him, saying, “Crush Satan under our feet.” For it is he who breeds enemies too. But if you pray against your enemies, you pray the prayer that he wants, just as, if you pray for your enemies, you pray against him. Why then do you leave the real enemy and bite your own members, becoming more savage than beasts in this? “But he insulted me,” someone says, “and robbed me of money.” And whom should we mourn, the one who suffered evil or the one who did it? The one who gained money has cast himself out of God’s favor and has lost more than he took; so he is the one who has been wronged. So we must not pray against him, but for him, that God may be merciful to him.

See how much the three youths suffered, though they had done nothing dreadful. They lost their homeland and their freedom, they were taken captive and became slaves, and they were about to be [put to death] in a foreign land because of the dream, idly and in vain. What then did they pray when they went in with Daniel? What did they say? “Cast down [his] diadem, throw him from his throne”? Nothing of the kind; but they sought mercies from God. And when they were in the furnace, the same. But not you; though you suffer far less than they, and often justly, you do not cease uttering countless curses. One says, “Cast down my enemy, as you drowned Pharaoh’s chariot”; another, “Strike his flesh”; another again, “Repay it on his children.” Do you not recognize these words? Why then this laughter of yours? Do you see how ridiculous they are when they are spoken without passion? And every sin too is shown to be shameful when you strip it of the passion of the one who dares it. If you remind an angry man of the words he spoke in his rage, he will sink with shame and laugh at himself, and would rather suffer countless things than have those words be his; and if you bring the licentious man after the act to the prostitute, he too will turn away from her as loathsome. So you too, who are not in the passion, laugh now; for these words are ridiculous, the words of drunken old women and of a womanish pettiness of soul. Joseph too, when he was sold and became a slave and lived in a prison, did not even then utter a bitter word against those who had grieved him; but what does he say? “I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews,” and he does not add by whom; for he is ashamed of his brothers’ wrongs more than those who did them. So we too must be disposed, grieving for those who abuse us more than they themselves; for the harm passes over to them. As those who kick against nails and are proud of it deserve pity and lamentation for this madness, so too those who wrong those who have done them no evil, since they strike their own souls, deserve much weeping and lamentation, not curses. For nothing is more abominable than a cursing soul, nothing more unclean than a tongue that offers such sacrifices. You are a man; do not spew out the venom of asps. You are a man; do not become a beast. That is why you were given a mouth, not to bite, but to heal the wounds of others. “Remember what I commanded you,” says God: “to pardon and forgive. But you even call on me to become a partner in overturning my commands, and you devour your brother and redden your tongue, like madmen who redden their teeth with their own limbs.” How must the devil be pleased and laugh when he hears such a prayer! How must God be provoked and turn away and hate it, when you make such requests! What could be worse than this? For if one must not approach the mysteries while having enemies, how should not one who not only has them but even prays against them be barred even from the sacred precincts? Considering these things, then, and knowing the purpose of the sacrifice, that it was offered for enemies, let us have no enemy; and if we have one, let us pray for him, so that we too, receiving pardon for our sins, may stand before the judgment seat of Christ with boldness; to whom be glory, might, and honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“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 …”

[… was glorious,] and he explains more clearly what “the letter kills” is, saying what we said before, that the Law revealed sin but did not produce it. “Much more does the ministry of righteousness abound in glory.” For those tablets showed up sinners and punished them; but this ministry not only did not punish sinners but even made them righteous; for this baptism bestowed. “For indeed what was glorified has not been glorified in this respect, because of the glory that surpasses it.” In the earlier words he showed that this ministry too is in glory, and not simply in glory, but that it abounds; for he did not say, “How will the ministry of the Spirit not be in glory?” but “abounds in glory,” having the proof from the reasonings already given. Here he shows how great the superiority is too, saying, “If I compare this with that, the glory of the Old is not even glory”; not establishing simply that it is not glory, but by way of comparison. That is why he added, “in this respect,” that is, by way of comparison. This does not disparage the Old, but rather strongly commends it; for comparisons are usually made between things of the same kind. Then he raises another argument that proves the superiority from another side too. Which? That from time, saying, “For if what was being brought to an end came with glory, much more what remains is in glory.” For the one ceased, but the other remains forever.

“Since, then, we have such a hope, we use great boldness.” Since the hearer, having heard so many and such great things about the New, was seeking to see this glory with his own eyes, see where he throws him: to the age to come. That is why he set hope in the midst, saying, “Since, then, we have such a hope.” Such—what kind? “That we have been counted worthy of greater things than Moses, not we apostles only, but all the faithful.” “We use great boldness.” Toward whom, tell me? Toward God, or toward the disciples? “Toward you, the disciples,” he says; that is, “We speak everywhere with freedom, not keeping anything back, but speaking plainly; and we are not afraid that we will strike your eyes, as Moses did those of the Jews.” For that he hinted at this, hear what follows; or rather, it is necessary first to tell the story, for he himself turns it round continually. What then is the story? When Moses came down the second time with the tablets, a glory leaping out from his face shone so brightly that the Jews could not come near him and talk with him, until he put a veil over his face. It is written thus in Exodus: “When he came down from the mountain, the two tablets were in his hands. And Moses did not know that the appearance of the skin of his face had been glorified; and they were afraid to come near him. And Moses called them and spoke to them. And when Moses had finished speaking to them, he put a veil over his face. But whenever he went in before the Lord to speak, he took off the veil until he came out.” Having recalled this story, then, he says, “And not as Moses put a veil over his face, so that the children of Israel might not gaze at the end of what was being brought to an end.” What he means is this: “We have no need to veil ourselves as Moses did; for you are able to see this glory with which we are clothed, though it is far greater and brighter than that.” Do you see their progress? He who in the first letter said, “I fed you with milk, not solid food,” here says, “We use great boldness”; and he brings Moses into the midst, advancing his discourse by comparison and so raising the hearer up. And meanwhile he sets them above the Jews, saying, “We do not need a veil, as he did with those he ruled”; but what follows raises them to the very dignity of the lawgiver, or even far higher.

Meanwhile let us hear what follows: “But their minds were hardened. For until this very day the same veil remains at the reading of the Old Covenant, not being lifted, because it is brought to an end in Christ.” See what he establishes by this. What happened once then in the case of Moses happens continually in the case of the Law. So what is said is not a slander on the Law, just as Moses’ being veiled then was not, but on the unfeeling Jews; for the Law has its own glory, but they were unable to see it. “Why, then, are you perplexed,” he says, “if they cannot see this glory, the glory of grace, when they did not see the lesser glory of Moses, nor were able to gaze at his face? Why are you troubled if the Jews do not believe Christ, when they do not even believe the Law? For this is why they were ignorant of grace too, because they did not see even the Old Covenant, nor the glory in it; for the glory of the Law is to lead toward Christ.” [3.] Do you see how from this too he pulls down the inflated pride of the Jews? From the very thing in which they thought they had the advantage—that Moses’ face flashed like lightning—he shows their dullness and groveling. So let them not pride themselves on this; for what is this to Jews who did not enjoy it? That is why he turns it round continually, now saying, “The same veil remains at the reading of the Old Covenant, not being lifted, because it is brought to an end in Christ”; now, “Until this day, whenever Moses is read, the same veil lies upon their heart,” showing that it lies both on the reading and on their heart; and above, “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.” What could be meaner than this, when they cannot become spectators even of a glory that was being brought to an end, or rather of one that is not even glory by comparison, but it is veiled from them, “so that they might not gaze at the end of what was being brought to an end,” that is, of the Law, which has an end?

“But their minds were hardened.” “And what has this to do with the veil then?” someone says. That it foreshadowed what was to come. For they did not see then only, but they do not see the Law now either. And the cause lies with them; for hardening belongs to an unfeeling and perverse mind. “So it is we who know the Law; but for them not only grace but the Law too has been overshadowed.” “For until this very day the same veil remains at the reading of the Old Covenant,” he says, “not being lifted, because it is brought to an end in Christ.” What he means is this: “They cannot perceive this very thing, that the Law has ceased, because they do not believe in Christ. For if it has ceased through Christ—as indeed it has, and the Law itself said this beforehand—how will those who do not receive Christ, who brought the Law to an end, be able to see that the Law has been brought to an end? And not being able to see this, it is plain that they are ignorant of the force of the Law itself, which says these things, and of all its glory.” “And where did it say,” someone asks, “that it is brought to an end in Christ?” Not only did it say so, but it also showed it through events: first by shutting up the sacrifices and all the worship in one place, the temple, and then later pulling it down. For if God had not wished the sacrifices to cease, and the whole law concerning them, he would have done one of two things: either he would not have pulled down the temple, or, having pulled it down, he would not have forbidden sacrifice elsewhere. But as it is, he made the whole world, and Jerusalem itself, closed to such rites; he left the temple alone open to them and assigned it to them, and then later pulled it down too, and so showed completely by the events themselves that the things of the Law have ceased through Christ; for Christ pulled down the temple. And if you wish to see from words too how it is brought to an end through Christ, hear the lawgiver himself saying thus: “The Lord will raise up for you a prophet from among your brothers, like me; you shall listen to him in everything that he commands you. And it shall be that every soul that does not listen to that prophet shall be utterly destroyed.” Do you see how the Law showed that it ceases in Christ? For this prophet, that is, Christ according to the flesh, to whom Moses bade them listen, brought to an end the Sabbath and circumcision and all the rest. And David too, showing the same thing, said of Christ, “You are a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek,” not after the order of Aaron. That is why Paul, interpreting it clearly, says, “For when the priesthood is changed, there is necessarily a change of the law too.” And elsewhere again he says, “Sacrifice and offering you did not want; in whole burnt offerings and sin offerings you took no pleasure; then I said, ‘Behold, I have come.’” And many more testimonies than these could be brought from the Old Testament, showing how the Law is brought to an end through Christ.

So when you depart from the Law, then you will see the Law rightly; but as long as you hold on to it and do not believe in Christ, you do not know even the Law itself. That is why he added, more clearly, “But until this day, whenever Moses is read, a veil lies upon their heart.” For since he had said that the veil remains at the reading of the Old Covenant, so that no one might think what was said came from the obscurity of the Law, he had shown it by other words earlier too (for by saying, “Their minds were hardened,” he shows that the charge is theirs), and he shows it again in this very statement. For he did not say, “The veil remains on the letters,” but “at the reading”; and reading is the activity of those who read. And he showed the same thing by the next phrase, saying openly, “A veil lies upon their heart.” For in Moses’ face too it lay there not because of Moses, but because of their dullness and fleshly mind.

Having accused them sufficiently, he shows also the manner of their correction. What is it? “But whenever one turns to the Lord”—which is to depart from the Law—“the veil is taken away.” Do you see that that veil was not on Moses’ face but on the Jews’ sight? For it was done not so that Moses’ glory might be hidden, but so that they might not see; for they could not bear it. So the defect was theirs; for it did not make him ignorant of anything, but them. And he did not say, “whenever he leaves the Law,” but he hinted at it: “For whenever he turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away.” He kept to the story to the end. For when Moses spoke to the Jews, he covered his face; but when he turned to God, it was uncovered. This was a type of what was to come: that when we turn to the Lord, then we shall see the glory of the Law and the face of the lawgiver bare; or rather not this only, but then we shall be in the rank of Moses too. Do you see how he calls the Jew to faith, showing that by coming to grace he can not only see Moses but even come into the very rank of the lawgiver? “For you will not only see the glory which you did not see then,” he says, “but you yourself will be in the same glory, or rather in a far greater one, so great that that glory does not seem glory when compared with this.” How and in what way? “Because, having turned to the Lord and come to be in grace, you will enjoy that glory compared with which the glory of Moses is so much less that it is not even glory. Yet even though it is small and falls far short of that, as a Jew you did not see it then and do not now; but having become a believer you will be counted worthy to behold the far greater one too.” And when he was speaking to the faithful, he said that “what was glorified has not been glorified”; but here he does not speak so, but how? “Whenever he turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away”: leading him up little by little, first setting him in the rank of Moses, and then making him a sharer in the greater things. “For when you see Moses in glory, then you will turn to God too, and enjoy a greater glory than this.”

See, then, from the beginning, how many things he has set down that make the difference and show the superiority of the New over the Old, not its conflict or opposition. “That one is letter,” he says, “and stone, and a ministry of death, and is being brought to an end; and yet the Jews were not counted worthy even of this glory. This one is a tablet of flesh, and Spirit, and righteousness, and it remains; and we are all counted worthy of it, not one man only, as Moses was then of the lesser.” “For we all,” he says, “with unveiled face behold the glory of the Lord,” not that of Moses. But since some say that “whenever one turns to the Lord” was spoken of the Son, [let us first set] … from things that are fully agreed that from which they seem to establish it. What is this? “As it says, ‘God is Spirit,’ so here too, ‘the Lord is Spirit.’” But he did not say, “The Lord is Spirit,” but, “The Lord is the Spirit.” And the difference between this construction and that is great. For when he wants to speak as you say, he does not add the article to the predicate. Besides, let us look at everything he said from the beginning, and of whom he spoke: for instance, when he said, “The letter kills,” [and, “written not with] ink but with the Spirit of the living God”—was it about the Son, or about the Spirit? Plainly about the Spirit; for it was to the Spirit that he called them from the letter. For so that no one, hearing “Spirit,” and then reasoning that Moses turned to the Lord but he himself to the Spirit, might think he had less, correcting such a suspicion he says, “Now the Lord is the Spirit.” “This too is Lord,” he says. And so that you may learn that the word concerns the Paraclete, he added, “And where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” For surely you would not say that he means, “Where the Lord of the Lord is.” He spoke of freedom in contrast with the former slavery.

Then, so that you may not think that he speaks of the time to come, he says, “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord”—not the glory that ceases, but the one that remains—“are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as [from the Lord, the Spirit].” Do you see how again he places the Spirit in the rank of God, and raises them to the rank of the apostles? For he said earlier, “You are a letter of Christ,” and here, “But we all with unveiled face.” And yet they came bearing the law according to Moses. “But as we,” he says, “needed no veil, so neither do you who have received it. And yet this glory is much greater; for it is not the glory of our face, but of the Spirit; yet you can gaze at it just as we can. For they could not do so even through a mediator; but you can behold the greater glory even without a mediator. They could not look at the glory of Moses; you can look even at that of the Spirit.” He would not have set these things down as greater than those if the Spirit were inferior.

[4.] What is “beholding the glory of the Lord, we are being transformed into the same image”? This was shown more clearly when the gifts of signs were at work; yet even now it is not difficult to see it for one who has eyes of faith. For as soon as we are baptized, the soul shines brighter than the sun, cleansed by the Spirit; and we not only behold the glory of God, but also receive some radiance from it. As pure silver placed facing the sun’s rays would itself send out rays, not only from its own nature but from the sun’s brilliance, so too the soul, cleansed and made brighter than silver, receives a ray from the glory of the Spirit and sends it back. That is why he says, “Beholding, we are being transformed into the same image, from glory”—that of the Spirit—“to glory”—our own, which comes to be in us, and of such a kind as is likely—“as from the Lord, the Spirit.” See how here too he calls the Spirit Lord. And his lordship can be seen elsewhere too: “While they were ministering to the Lord and fasting,” it says, “the Spirit said, ‘Set apart for me Paul and Barnabas.’” For he said, “while they were ministering to the Lord,” and “Set apart for me,” to show the equality of honor. And again Christ says, “The slave does not know what his master is doing”; but the Spirit, as a man knows his own things, so knows the things of God, not by being taught; otherwise the image does not hold. And his working as he wills shows his authority and lordship. It is he who transforms, he who does not let us be conformed to this age, he who is creator of such a creation. As it says, “created in Christ Jesus,” so it says, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Do you want me to show you this more tangibly from the apostles? Consider Paul, whose garments worked wonders; Peter, whose very shadow had power. They would not, unless they bore the King’s image and their radiance were unapproachable, have had garments and shadows that worked so powerfully; for a king’s garments are fearful even to robbers. Do you want to see it shining through the body too? “Gazing at the face of Stephen,” it says, “they saw it as the face of an angel.” But this is nothing compared with the glory flashing within. For what Moses had on his face, they carried about in their soul, or rather far more. For that of Moses was more perceptible to the senses, but this is incorporeal. And as fiery bodies, flowing from bright bodies onto what is near, impart their own brightness to them, so it happens with the faithful. That is why those who experience this are freed from earth and dream of the things in heaven. … for it is right here to groan bitterly too, that while enjoying such nobility we do not even know what is being said, because we quickly lose these things and are agitated about things of sense. For this unspeakable and awesome glory remains in us for one day or two, and then we quench it, bringing on the winter storm of worldly affairs and beating off the rays with the thickness of the clouds. For worldly affairs are a winter storm, and gloomier than a storm. For from them comes no frost or rain, nor do they make mud and deep mire, but what is harder than all these: they build up Gehenna and the evils of Gehenna. And as in severe frost all the limbs are frozen and dead, so too the soul, shivering in the winter storm of sins, does none of its own works, frozen as by the frost of conscience. For what cold is to the body, an evil conscience is to the soul; and from it comes cowardice too. For nothing is more cowardly than the man nailed to worldly affairs; such a man lives the life of Cain, trembling every day. And why do I speak of deaths and losses and offenses and flatteries and servilities? Even without these he fears countless changes. His storeroom is full of gold, but his soul is not freed from the fear of poverty; and quite rightly. For he is anchored on rotten and easily changing things; and even if he does not himself undergo the change, seeing it happen to others he is undone; great is his cowardice, great his unmanliness. For such a man is not only without daring before dangers, but before everything else too. If desire for money assails him, he does not beat off the attack like a free man, but does everything like a slave bought with silver, serving love of money as a harsh mistress. And if he sees a good-looking girl, he is at once captured and laid low, and follows like a mad dog, when he ought to do the opposite.

For when you see a beautiful woman, do not consider how to enjoy your desire, but how to be freed from the desire. “And how is this possible?” someone says. “For loving is not my doing.” Whose, then, tell me? “The work of the demon’s malice.” Do you really think that [love] is a demon? … “But I cannot,” he says. Come, then, let us first teach you this: that what happens is the result of your own carelessness, and that you at the beginning gave the demon entrance, and now, if you will, you will drive him off with great ease. For tell me, do adulterers commit adultery because they love, or simply because they desire dangers? Plainly because they love. Do they then obtain pardon? Not at all. Why? Because the sin is theirs. “But why do you weave syllogisms for me?” he says. “I know in myself that I want to beat off the passion, and I cannot; it stands over me and presses and pains me terribly.” You want to beat it off, man, but you do not do what those do who beat it off. You suffer like someone with a fever who gorges himself on cold springs and says, “How many things I devise, wishing to quench the fever, and I cannot, but rather kindle my flame!” Let us see, then, whether you too [do] what kindles it and think you are devising what quenches it. “No,” he says. Tell me, then, what have you ever tried to do to quench the passion? And what is it, in general, that increases the passion? For even if we are not all liable to these charges (we would find more people captured by love of money than by love of bodies), yet the remedy will lie open to all in common, both to these and to those. For that too is a monstrous love, and this; but this one is more piercing and sharper than that. When, then, we overcome the greater, it is plain that we shall easily conquer the lesser. “And how is it,” someone says, “if this one is more piercing, that not all are captured by this evil, but most are mad about money?” Because, first, that desire seems to be without danger; then, even if the desire for bodies is sharper, it is quenched more quickly; whereas if it remained, as that for money does, it would destroy its captive utterly.

Come, then, let us speak to you about this one, that for bodies, and see where the evil grows from; for so we shall know whether this charge is ours or not ours. And if it is ours, let us do everything to overcome it; but if it is not ours, why do we beat ourselves in vain? Why do we not pardon, but accuse, those who are captured? Where, then, is this love born? “From beauty of face,” someone says, “when the one who wounds is fair and good-looking.” You say this idly and in vain. For if attracting lovers belonged to beauty, such a girl would have all men as lovers; but if she does not have all, it is not from nature nor from beauty, but from licentious eyes. For when you have looked curiously, admired, and loved, you have received the arrow. “And who,” he says, “seeing a beautiful woman, could help praising the one he sees? So if admiring such things is not of our choice, love is not in our power.” Stop, man. Why do you [run] … not willing to see the root of the evil? For I see many admiring and praising, but not loving. “And how is it possible for those who admire not to love?” Do not be disturbed; for that is what I am coming to say. But wait, and you will hear Moses admiring Jacob’s son and saying, “And Joseph was beautiful in form and very handsome in appearance.” Was the one who said this in love, then? Not at all. “For he did not even see the one he praised,” someone says. But we are affected in some such way by beauties we hear of too, not only by those we see. So that you may not dispute with us about this: David was very handsome, ruddy, with beautiful eyes—which above all is the most tyrannical part of beauty, the beauty of the eyes. Did anyone fall in love with him? Not at all. So loving does not come along with admiring. And many have had mothers in the full bloom of bodily beauty. What then? Did their sons fall in love with them? Far from it; they admire what they see, but do not fall into shameful love. “Again, that is the achievement of nature,” he says. Of what nature, tell me? “That they are mothers,” he says. Then do you not hear that the Persians, with nothing compelling them, have intercourse with their own mothers, and not one or two but the whole nation? Besides this, it is plain from this too that this disease belongs not simply to bodily bloom nor to beauty, but to the careless and wandering soul. Many, at any rate, have often passed by countless comely women … from which it is plain that loving does not belong to beauty; otherwise those women would have [captured] these men before others. “What then is the cause?” he says. “For if loving does not come from beauty, where does it have its beginning and its root? From a wicked demon?” It has it from there too; but that is not still the question, but whether we too are not the cause. For the plotting is not theirs only, but along with them, ours first. For from nowhere else is this evil disease born so much as from familiarity, from flattering words, from leisure and idleness, and from having nothing to do.

For great, great is the tyranny of habit, so great that it comes to have the force of natural necessity. And if habit gives birth to love, it is plain that it also quenches it. Many in love, at any rate, have stopped loving in this way, by not seeing the one they loved. For a short time this seems bitter and very unpleasant; but in time it becomes sweet, and even if they wished, they could no longer recover the passion. “What then if someone is captured at first sight, without habit?” Here too the cause is idleness of body, or luxury, and not caring for what is fitting, nor being occupied in necessary affairs. For such a man, going about like a vagrant, is pierced by every evil; and like a child left to itself, such a soul is enslaved by anyone who wishes. For since the soul is used to being active, when you stop its activity in good things, since it cannot be idle, it is compelled to bring forth other things. As the earth, when it is not [sown, puts forth weeds] at random, so too the soul, when it has nothing necessary to do, longing in any case to act, gives itself to wicked things. And as the eye does not stop seeing, and for this reason will see wicked things when good things are not set before it, so too the reasoning, when it draws itself away from necessary things, turns about among useless ones; since … and care, is plain from many things. So when you see a beautiful woman and feel something toward her, look at her no more, and you are freed. “And how shall I be able not to look again,” he says, “when I am dragged by desire?” Give yourself to other things that draw the soul away: to books, to necessary cares, to protecting and helping the wronged, to prayers, to wisdom about the things to come; bind the soul to such things. So you will easily rub off a fresh wound. For if an insult persuades a lover to end his love, as the proverb says, how will not these spiritual charms much more overcome the evil, if only we are willing to stand aloof? But if we always keep company and associate, speaking and hearing what comes from such people, we feed the disease. How then do you expect the fire to be quenched, when you kindle the flame every day? Let this, then, be said by us about habit, to the young; for to men who know how to be wise, greater than all is the fear of God, the remembrance of Gehenna, the desire for the kingdom of heaven; for these are enough to quench the fire. And along with these, consider this too: that what is seen is nothing else than phlegm and blood and the juice of digested food. “But the bloom of the face is bright,” someone says. But no bloom of the flowers of the earth is brighter; yet these too rot and wither. So here too do not attend to the bloom, but pass further inward with your reasoning, and, stripping off in thought that fair skin, examine what lies beneath it. For the body of those with dropsy too shines bright, and its surface has nothing ugly; but at the thought of the fluid stored within we cannot love such people. “But the eye is liquid and lively, the brow beautifully arched, the lashes dark, the pupil gentle, the gaze serene.” But see that this too is nothing else than nerves and veins and membranes and arteries. Consider this beautiful eye when sick, when aging, how quickly it perishes from dejection, and vanishes faster than painted things. From these things lead your mind away to true beauty. “But I do not see the beauty of a soul,” someone says. If you will, you will see it; and as one can admire with the mind people who are beautiful and absent without having seen them with the eyes, so it is possible to see the beauty of a soul without eyes. Have you not often sketched in your mind a comely form and been moved toward the figure? Picture now too the beauty of a soul, and delight in its loveliness. “I do not see incorporeal things,” someone says. And yet we see them with the mind more than bodies. That is why we admire angels and archangels, though we do not see them, and the characters of men and the virtue of the soul. If you see a man who is gentle and moderate, you will admire him more than that comely face; and if you see someone insulted and bearing it, wronged and enduring it, along with admiring you love such people, even if they are old. For such is the beauty of the soul: even in old age it has many lovers, and it never withers but blooms continually. So that we too may acquire it, let us hunt out those who have it and become theirs. For so we too, having received this loveliness, shall be able to obtain the eternal good things; which may we all share, by the grace and love for humankind, and so on.

“Therefore, having this ministry, as [we received mercy, we do not lose heart; but we have renounced] the hidden things of shame.”

Since he had uttered great things and set himself above Moses, and all the faithful too, perceiving the excess and greatness of what had been said, see how he speaks modestly again. For he had to exalt because of the false apostles and the hearers, and again to soften the swelling, not to pull it down, since that would have been the act of one making sport. So he handles it differently, by showing that it came about not from their own achievements, but that the whole was from God’s love for humankind. That is why he says, “having this ministry.” “For we contributed nothing more, but only became ministers, and served what was given by God.” That is why he did not say “provision” or “supply,” but “ministry”; and he was not content even with this, but added, “as we received mercy.” “For this very thing,” he says, “our ministering these things, came from mercy and love for humankind.” And yet it belongs to mercy to free from evils, not also to give such great goods; but God’s mercy has this too. “We do not lose heart.” This too must be reckoned to his love for humankind. For consider that “as we received mercy” is said both of the ministry and of “we do not lose heart.” And see how eager he is to pull down his own merits. “For one counted worthy of such and so great things,” he says, “and that from mercy alone and love for humankind, does nothing great in showing such labors, in being in danger, and in enduring temptations. That is why we not only do not collapse, but even rejoice and speak boldly.” Having said, then, “We do not lose heart,” he added, “But we have renounced the hidden things of shame, not [adulterating] the word of God.” And what is “the hidden things of shame”? “We do not announce and promise great things,” he says, “and show other things in our deeds, as they do”—that is why he said, “Look at what is before your face”—“but we are such as we are seen, having no doubleness, nor saying and doing things that must be hidden and covered over by people who blush.” And explaining this he added, “not walking in craftiness.” For what they thought a praise, he declares shameful and ridiculous. What is “in craftiness”? They had the reputation of not taking, yet they took and concealed it; they had the reputation of saints and approved apostles, yet were full of countless evils. “But we,” he says, “have renounced these things” (for these too he calls the hidden things of shame), “being such as we appear, and having nothing covered over, not in our life only, but in the preaching itself too.” For this is what “nor adulterating the word of God, but by the open statement of the truth” means: not by appearance and display, but by the very proof of the facts.

“Commending ourselves to every human conscience.” “For we are plain not only to the faithful but to unbelievers too, [lying open] to all to test our affairs as they wish; and from this we commend ourselves, not from playing a part and carrying about a bright mask. We say, then, that we take nothing, and we call you as witnesses; we say that we are conscious of nothing evil in ourselves, and again we draw the testimony for this from you; not as they do, who deceive many by covering over their own affairs. But we set our life before all in the midst, and the preaching …” Then, since the unbelievers were ignorant of its power, he added that this charge is not ours, but belongs to their insensibility. That is why he says, “And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled among those who are perishing, among whom the god of this age has blinded the minds of the unbelievers.” What he said earlier, “To some an odor from death to death, to others an odor from life to life,” he says here too.

[2.] What is “the god of this age”? Those sick with Marcion’s disease say that this was said of the Creator, who is only just and not good; for they say that there is a God who is just and not good. The Manichees say that the devil is meant here, wishing by this to bring in another creator of the world beside the one who is—very foolishly. For Scripture often calls something “god” not from the dignity of what is so called, but from the weakness of those subject to it; as when it calls mammon “lord” and the belly “god.” But the belly is not on this account a god, nor mammon a lord, except to those who prostrate themselves under them. We say that this is not said of the devil, but of the God of the universe, and it must be read thus: “God has blinded the minds of the unbelievers of this age.” For the age to come has no unbelievers, but only the present one. And even if someone reads it otherwise, “the God of this age,” not even this gives them any handle; for it does not show him to be the God of this age only. For he is called the God of heaven, but he is not the God of heaven only; and we say “the God of the present day,” and we do not say this shutting up his rule to that day alone; and he is called the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and he is not their God only. And one could find many other such testimonies in the Scriptures. How then did he blind them? Not by working to this end—far from it—but by letting it be and permitting it; for this is Scripture’s custom of speaking; as when it says, “God gave them up to a base mind.” For since they first disbelieved and made themselves unworthy to see the mysteries, he too then let them be. But what should he have done? Dragged them by force, and uncovered the mysteries to those who did not want to see? But they would have despised them the more and would not have seen. That is why he added, “so that the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ might not shine on them”: not that they should disbelieve God, but that unbelief should not see what is within; which he commanded us too, bidding us not to throw pearls before swine. For if he had uncovered them to unbelievers, their disease would have been aggravated the more. For if you force a man with diseased eyes to look at the sun’s rays, you increase his weakness; that is why physicians shut such people up in darkness, so as not to aggravate the disease. So here too we must understand that these men became unbelievers through themselves; and having become unbelievers, they no longer saw the secret things of the gospel, God thereafter shutting off its rays from them. This he said to the disciples too: “This is why I speak to them in parables, because hearing they do not hear.” And to make what I say clearer by an example, suppose some Greek who thinks our things are myths. How will he be helped more, by going in and seeing the mysteries, or by staying outside? That is why he says, “so that the light might not shine on them,” still keeping to the story of Moses. For what happened to the Jews in his time happens in the case of the gospel with all unbelievers. And what is it that is covered over, and that has not been illumined for them? Hear him saying, “so that the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, might not shine on them.” For instance, that the cross is the salvation of the world and his glory; that this very one who was crucified will come with great splendor; all the other things, present, to come, seen, unseen; the unspeakable splendor of the things expected. That is why he said “shine,” so that you might not seek the whole here; for what has been given of the Spirit is only a kind of shining. To show this above too, he said “fragrance,” and again “pledge,” showing that the greater part remains there. Yet all these things have been hidden from them; and they are hidden because they disbelieved first. Then, showing that those who have not seen this glory are ignorant not only of Christ’s glory but of the Father’s too, he added, “who is the image of God.” “Do not stop at Christ alone. For as through him one sees the Father, so if you are ignorant of his glory, you will not know the Father’s either.” “For we do not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake.”

And what sort of sequence is this? What has this in common with what was said? Either he is hinting at those men as exalting themselves and persuading the disciples to name themselves after them, as he said in the first letter, “I am of Paul, I of Apollos”; or at something else, very serious. What is it? Since they were warring hard against them and plotting against them on every side, he says, “Are you fighting and warring against us, or against him who is preached through us? For we do not preach ourselves. I am a slave, I am a minister even of those who receive the preaching, doing everything for another and doing anything whatever for his glory; so that in warring against me you are overthrowing his cause. For I am so far from drawing to myself any of the things of the gospel, that I will not even refuse to be your slave for Christ’s sake, since it seemed good to him to honor you so, since he so loved you and did everything for you.” That is why he says, “and ourselves your slaves for Christ’s sake.” Do you see a soul pure of vainglory? “For not only do we appropriate nothing of the Master’s,” he says, “but we even subject ourselves to you for his sake.”

“For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts.” Do you see how again, to those seeking that surpassing glory—I mean Moses’—he shows it flashing with something added? “As on the face of Moses,” he says, “so he shone on your hearts.” And first he recalls what happened at the beginning of creation, the light perceptible to the senses and the darkness perceptible to the senses, showing that this creation is greater. And where did he say, “Let light shine out of darkness”? At the beginning, in the opening of creation: “For darkness was,” it says, “upon the abyss. And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” But then he said, “Let there be,” and there was; now he did not say it, but he himself has become light for us. For he did not say that he said it now too, but that he himself shone. That is why, with this light shining, we see not things of sense, but God himself through Christ. Do you see the exact likeness of the Trinity? Of the Spirit he says, “But we all with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord, the Spirit”; of the Son, “so that the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, might not shine on them”; and of the Father, “He who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in your hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” For as, having said, “of the gospel of the glory of Christ,” he added, “who is the image of God,” showing that they were deprived of the Father’s glory too, so, having said, “of the knowledge of God,” he added, “in the face of Christ,” showing that through him we know the Father, just as we are brought to him through the Spirit.

“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power may be of God and not from us.” Since he had said many great things about the unspeakable glory, so that no one might say, “And how, enjoying such glory, do we remain in a mortal body?” he says that this itself above all is the wonderful thing and the greatest proof of God’s power: that an earthen vessel was able to carry such brightness and guard so great a treasure. Wondering at this himself, then, he said, “so that the surpassing greatness of the power may be of God and not from us,” hinting again at those who boasted of themselves. For both the greatness of what was given and the weakness of those who received it show the power: not only that he bestowed great things, but that he bestowed them on small ones. For he said “earthen,” hinting at the fragility of mortal nature and showing the weakness of our flesh. For it is in no better state than earthenware, so easily is it injured, being readily dissolved by death and diseases and changes of weather and countless other things. He said this both to check their pride and to show all that nothing of ours is human.

For God’s power shows through most of all when he works great things through mean ones. That is why he said elsewhere, “For my power is made perfect in weakness.” And in the Old Testament too he [overthrew] whole armies of barbarians through gnats and flies (that is why he called the caterpillar his great power); and in the beginning, merely by confusing tongues, he brought down that great tower in Babylon. And in wars he now drove off countless armies through three hundred men, now pulled down cities by trumpets; and after this, through a small and humble boy, David, he routed the whole battle line of the barbarians. So here too, sending out only twelve, he overcame the world—twelve, and [those persecuted and warred against]. [4.] Let us, then, [be amazed at] God’s power, let us marvel, let us worship. Let us ask the Jews, let us ask the Greeks: who persuaded the whole world to depart from its ancestral customs and pass over to another way of life? The fisherman, or the tentmaker? … unless it was divine power that achieved everything through them? And what did they say to persuade? “Be baptized in the name of the one who was crucified.” Of whom? Of one whom they had not seen nor beheld. Yet saying and preaching this, they persuaded men that those who give oracles, handed down to them from their ancestors, are not gods, but that the one who was nailed up, this Christ, drew everyone to himself. And yet that he was crucified and buried was plain to everyone; but that he rose again, no one saw except a few. Yet they persuaded even those who had not seen of this too; and not only that he rose, but that he went up into heaven and is coming to judge the living and the dead. Where, then, did these words get their persuasiveness, tell me? From nowhere else but from God’s power. For first, the very novelty offended everyone; and when someone introduces such novelties, the thing becomes harder, when he heaves up the foundations of old custom, when he tears laws up from their base. Besides this, the preachers themselves did not seem trustworthy, but were of a nation hated by all, and cowardly and unlearned. How then did they overcome the world? How did they drive out you and your forefathers, who seemed to be philosophers, together with your gods? Is it not plain that it was from having God with them? For these are not achievements of human power, but of some divine and unspeakable power. “No,” someone says, “but of sorcery.” Then the rule of the demons ought to have increased and the worship of idols to have intensified. How then has it been pulled down and made to vanish, and our things are opposite to those? So from this too it is plain that what happened was God’s decree, not from the preaching only but also from the way of life itself. For when was such virginity planted everywhere on earth? When such contempt for money, and for life, and for everything else? Villains and sorcerers could achieve nothing of the kind, but everything opposite. But these men brought in for us the way of life of angels; and not only brought it in but achieved it, in our land, in that of the barbarians, in the very ends of the earth. From this it is plain that the power of Christ, present everywhere, accomplished everything, shining everywhere and illuminating the minds of men more swiftly than any lightning. Reckoning all these things, then, and taking what has happened as a clear proof of the promise of things to come, worship with us the invincible strength of the crucified one, so that you may escape the unbearable punishments and obtain the eternal kingdom; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind, and so on.

[“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed …”] He still continues showing that the whole is the work of God’s power, checking the pride of those who boasted of themselves. “For this alone is not the wonder,” he says, “that we keep this treasure in earthen vessels, but that, suffering countless dreadful things and being battered everywhere, we keep it and do not lose it. And yet even if the vessel were of adamant, it would not have been able to carry so great a treasure, nor have held out against so many plots; but as it is, it both carries it and suffers no harm, because of God’s grace.” “For we are afflicted,” he says, “in every way, but not crushed.” What is “in every way”? From enemies, from friends, in necessities, in other needs, by foes, by our own people. “But we are not crushed.” And see how he states opposite things, so as to show God’s strength from this too. “Afflicted, we are not crushed,” he says; “perplexed, we are not driven to despair”; that is, we do not fall away completely. “For we are pained in many places, and we fail; but not so as to fall away from our purpose; for these things have been permitted by God for our exercise, not for our defeat.” “Persecuted, but not perishing.” For temptations happen, but what [follows] from temptations no longer. And this too is through God’s power and grace. Elsewhere he says that these things were permitted both for their humility and for the safety of others: “So that I might not be too elated, a thorn was given me,” he says; and again, “so that no one may think of me more than he sees, or hears from me”; and elsewhere again, “so that we might not trust in ourselves.” Here [he says], “so that the power of God may appear.” Do you see how great the gain of temptations is? For they both showed God’s power and [displayed his] grace; they anointed him for humility, prepared the others to be checked, and made them more steadfast: “For endurance,” he says, “produces character, and character hope.” For those who fell into countless dangers and came up out of them by hope in God were taught by this … “My grace is sufficient for you” … to hold on more in all things.

“Always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, so that the life of Jesus too may be manifested in our body.” And what is the dying of the Lord Jesus, which they carried about? The daily deaths, through which the resurrection too was shown. “For if anyone disbelieves,” he says, “that Jesus died and rose, let him see us, dying and rising every day, and believe in the resurrection from now on.” Do you see how he has found yet another reason for temptations? What is it? “So that his life too may be manifested in our body,” he says, “by his snatching us from the dangers.” So the thing that seems to belong to weakness and abandonment proclaims his resurrection. For his power would not have appeared so, if we had suffered nothing unpleasant, as it is shown now, when we suffer but are not overcome. “For we who live are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus too may be manifested in our mortal flesh.” For everywhere, when he says something unclear, he explains himself again; which he did here too, explaining clearly what he had said. “For this is why we are given up,” he says, that is, carry about the dying, “so that the power of his life may appear, as he does not allow mortal flesh, suffering so much, to be overcome by the snowstorm of evils.” And it may be taken another way too. How? As he says elsewhere, “If we died with him, we shall also live with him.” “For as we endure his death now, and choose while living to die for him, so he too will choose to give us life then when we have died. For if we are pursued from life to death, he too will lead us by the hand from death to life.” “So death is at work in us, but life in you.” He is no longer speaking of death but of temptations and relief. “For we are in dangers and in temptations,” he says, “but you are at ease, reaping the life that comes from these dangers; and we endure the dangerous things, while you enjoy the good things; for you do not endure so many temptations.”

“But having the same spirit of faith, according to what is written, ‘I believed, therefore I spoke,’ we too believe, therefore we also speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also through Jesus.” He reminded us of a psalm full of great wisdom and especially able to anoint us in dangers. That righteous man uttered this saying while in great dangers, from which there was no coming up except through God’s help.

Since, then, kindred examples especially console, he says, “having the same spirit”; that is, “by the same alliance by which he was saved we too are saved; by the Spirit by whom he spoke we too speak.” From this he shows that the New is in great harmony with the Old, and that the same Spirit worked in both; and that not we alone are in dangers, but all the men of old too; and that we must set things right by faith and hope, and not seek at once a release from what presses on us. For since he had shown by reasoning the resurrection and the life, and that the danger is not a sign of weakness or abandonment, he now brings in faith too and entrusts everything to it. Yet he offers a proof of it as well, the resurrection of Christ, saying, “We too believe, therefore we also speak.” What do we believe, tell me? “That he who raised Jesus will raise us also, and will present us with you. For everything is for your sake, so that grace, extended through more and more people, may increase thanksgiving to the glory of God.” Again he fills them with spirit, so that they may not feel gratitude toward men—I mean the false apostles. “For the whole is God’s, who wishes to bestow it on many, so that the grace may appear greater. For your sake, then, is the resurrection and everything else. For he did these things not for the sake of one alone, but of all.”

“So we do not lose heart; but though our outer man is wasting away, our inner man is being renewed day by day.” How does it waste away? By being scourged, persecuted, suffering countless dreadful things. “But the inner is being renewed day by day.” How is it renewed? By faith, by hope, by eagerness. “From now on we must dare dreadful things. For the more the body suffers countless things, the better the hopes the soul has, and the brighter it becomes, like gold being fired more.” And see how he pulls down the painful things of the present life: “For this momentary lightness of our affliction,” he says, “is working for us [an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure], as we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen.” Having shut the matter up in hope, and establishing here too what he said in the letter to the Romans, “For in hope we were saved, but hope that is seen is not hope,” he sets present things beside future ones: the momentary against the eternal, the light against the heavy, affliction against glory. And he is not content even with these, but puts another expression, doubling it and saying, “beyond measure, to excess.” Then he shows how the burden of so many afflictions is light. How then is it light? “As we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen.” So the present will be light and the future great, if we draw ourselves away from the things that are seen. “For the things that are seen are temporary”: so afflictions too are such. “But the things that are not seen are eternal”: so the crowns too are such. And he did not say, “Afflictions are such,” but, “All things that are seen,” whether punishment or rest; so that we may neither be softened by the one nor forced by the other. That is why, speaking of things to come too, he did not say, “The kingdom is eternal,” but, “The things that are not seen are eternal,” whether kingdom or punishment again; so as both to frighten from that side and to urge on from this.

Since, then, the things that are seen are temporary and those not seen eternal, let us look to those. For what defense could we have, choosing the temporary instead of the eternal? For even if the present is sweet, it is not lasting; but its pain is lasting and without excuse. What defense will they have who have been counted worthy of the Spirit and enjoyed so great a gift, and yet grovel and fall to the ground? For I hear many saying these ridiculous words: “Give me today, and take tomorrow. For if the things there are such as you say, one has been had instead of one; but if there is nothing at all, two instead of none.” What [could be more lawless] than these words, [or more idle? We are speaking of heaven and of] those [unspeakable] good things; and you bring the language of the hippodromes into our midst, and are not ashamed or do not cover your face uttering such things, which belong to madmen? Do you not blush, so nailed to present things? Will you not stop raving and being out of your mind and talking nonsense in youth? That Greeks should say these things is no wonder; but that believers should talk such nonsense, what pardon has it? Do you then wholly suspect those immortal hopes? Do you wholly think them doubtful? And where is this deserving of pardon? “And who came,” someone says, “and announced the things there?” No man; but God, more trustworthy than all, declared them. “But you do not see the things there.” Neither do you see God; will you then not think there is a God, because you do not see him? “I certainly think so,” he says. [Then if an unbeliever said that no one has come down] from heaven and announced this, what will you say? How do you know that there is a God? “From the things that are seen,” he says, “from the good order in all creation, from its being plain to all.” Then receive the doctrine of judgment in the same way too. “How?” he says. I will ask you; and you answer me. Is this God just, and does he render to each according to his deserts, or the opposite—does he wish the unjust to prosper and live in luxury, and the good to be in the opposite state? “Not at all,” he says; “not even a man would do this.” Where then will those who did well here enjoy good things, and where will the wicked receive the opposite, unless there is to be some life after this and a recompense? Do you see that it is one for one so far, and not two for one? But I will show you as I go on that it will be not one for one, but two for one for the righteous, and the opposite in every way for sinners, even those living in luxury here. For those who lived in luxury here did not receive even one for one; but those who live in virtue receive two for one. For who are at ease: those who abuse the present life, or those who live wisely? You perhaps will say the former, but I show you the latter, calling as witnesses those very ones who have enjoyed present things; and they will not shamelessly deny what I am going to say. For they have often cursed matchmakers, and the day on which the bridal chambers were set up, and have called the unmarried blessed. And many young men, though they could marry, have refused for no other reason than the burdensomeness of the thing. I say this not to disparage marriage (for it is honorable), but those who use it badly. But if those … what would we say of those who have flung themselves into the pits of fornication and are in a more wretched state? What of those rotting in luxury and loading their bodies with countless diseases? “But being in glory is sweet.” Nothing is more bitter than this slavery. For the vainglorious man, who wishes to please anyone at all, is more slavish than all slaves; but the one who has trampled on it, who does not care for glory from others, is above all. “But having money is delightful.” But we have often shown that those freed from it and having nothing are in greater wealth and ease. “But getting drunk is sweet.” And who would say this? So if not being rich is sweeter than being rich, and not marrying than marrying, and not being vainglorious than being vainglorious, and not living in luxury than living in luxury, then even here those not nailed to present things have the advantage. And so I say that the one, even if he is stretched on countless tortures, has good hope bearing him up; but the other, even if he enjoys countless luxuries, has the fear of what is to come troubling and confounding his pleasure. For this too is no small kind of punishment, just as its opposite is a kind of luxury and ease. And with these there is a third way too. What is it? That the things of worldly luxury do not even appear while they exist, being refuted both by their nature and by time; but those things not only exist, but remain unmoved. Do you see that we shall be able to set down not two for nothing only, but three and five and ten and twenty and countless for nothing?

And so that you may learn this by an example: the rich man and Lazarus—the one enjoyed present things, the other future ones. Does it seem to you to be one and one, to be punished for all time and to go hungry for a short hour? To be sick in a corruptible body, and to be fried terribly in an immortal one? To be crowned and live in deathless luxury after that short illness, and to be tortured without end after a brief enjoyment of goods? Who would say this? For what do you want us to set down: the quantity, the quality, God’s ordering, the verdict on each? How long will you utter the words of dung beetles that roll in the mud? These are not the words of rational men: to give up a soul so precious for nothing, when one could take the heavens with a little labor. Do you want me to teach you from another side too that there is a fearful tribunal there? Open the doors of your conscience, and see the judge sitting in your mind. If you condemn yourself, though you love yourself and would not bear to give an unjust judgment, will not God much more take great care for justice and give an impartial verdict on all, rather than let everything drift idly and at random? Who would say this? No one; but Greeks and barbarians, poets and philosophers, and the whole race of men agree with us in this, even if not in the same way, and say there are tribunals in Hades; so plain and agreed is the thing. “And why does he not punish here?” someone says. So as to show his long-suffering and grant us the salvation that comes from repentance, and not make our race snatched away at once, nor snatch away beforehand from salvation those who could be saved by an excellent change. For if he had punished and destroyed at once for sins, how would Paul have been saved, or Peter, the chief teachers of the world? How would David have reaped the salvation of repentance? How the Galatians? How many others? That is why he neither exacts the penalty from all here, but from some among all, nor from all there, but from one here and another there, so as both to rouse the very insensible by those he punishes and to make them expect what is to come by those he does not punish. Or do you not see many punished here, like those buried under the tower, like those whose blood Pilate mingled with their sacrifices, like those who died an untimely death among the Corinthians for partaking of the mysteries unworthily, like Pharaoh, like those of the Jews slaughtered by the barbarians, like many others, both then and now and continually? And others who sinned much have departed without paying the penalty here, like the rich man in the story of Lazarus, like many others.

He does these things both to rouse those who disbelieve the things to come and to make more earnest those who believe but are careless. “For God is a righteous judge, strong and long-suffering, not bringing on wrath every day.” But if we abuse his long-suffering, there will be a time when he will no longer be long-suffering even a little, but will at once bring on the penalty. Let us not, then, in order to live in luxury for one moment (for such is the present life), draw on ourselves the punishment of boundless ages; but let us toil for a moment, so that we may be crowned forever. Do you not see that in worldly matters too most people act so, and choose a little toil for the sake of long rest, even if the opposite turns out for them? For here there is an equal share of toil and gain, and often the reverse: the toil boundless, the fruit small, often not even small; but in the case of the kingdom it is the opposite: the toil small, the pleasure great and boundless. Consider: the farmer toils the whole year, and often at its very end he falls from the hope of the fruit of his many labors. The pilot again and the soldier spend their lives to extreme old age in wars and labors, and often each of them departs having lost, the one the wealth of his cargo, the other the victory and his very life. What defense, then, shall we have, tell me, if in worldly things we prefer labors so as to rest a little, or not even a little (for the hope is uncertain), but in spiritual things do the opposite and draw on ourselves unspeakable punishment for a little carelessness? So I urge you all, late as it is, to recover from this derangement. For no one will deliver us at that time, not brother, not father, not son, not friend, not neighbor, nor anyone else; but if we are betrayed by our works, everything will be gone, and we shall surely perish. How much that rich man lamented, and besought the patriarch, and asked that Lazarus be sent! But hear what Abraham said to him: “There is a chasm between you and us, so that not even [those who wish can cross].” … [Did not those virgins beseech] their companions for a little oil? But hear what those say too: “Perhaps there will not be enough for us and for you”; and no one could bring them into the bridal chamber. Reckoning these things, then, let us too take care of our life. For however many labors you name, however many punishments you bring forward, all these will be nothing compared with the good things to come. Set down, if you like, fire and iron and wild beasts, and anything harder than these; yet these are not even a shadow compared with those torments. For these, when applied more violently, then above all become light, bringing a quick release, as the body does not hold out either for the violence or for the length of the punishment; but there it is not so, but both come together, both duration and excess, both in good things and in painful ones. … so that we may see him gentle and serene then, so that we may escape those threatening powers. Do you not see the soldiers here who serve the magistrates, how they drag, how they bind, how they bring torches to the tortured, how they behead? But all these are toys and a laughingstock compared with those punishments. For these punishments are temporary; but there the worm does not die and the fire is not quenched; for the body is incorruptible. But God forbid that we should learn these things by experience; may the fearful things stop at words for us; may we not be handed over to those torturers, but be brought to our senses here. How much shall we say then, accusing ourselves, … with no profit any longer; since neither can sailors help at all once the ship has broken up and sunk, nor physicians once the patient has died. They will often say, “This and that should have been done,” but all idly and in vain. For while hopes from correction remain, one must say and do everything; but when we are no longer masters of anything, everything having been ruined, everything is said and done in vain. For the Jews too will say then, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”; but they will be able to gain nothing from this cry toward escaping punishment; for when they ought to have said it, they did not. So that we too may not suffer this in regard to our way of life, let us change from here and now, so that we may stand before the judgment seat of Christ with all boldness; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, and so on.

“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.

“[Knowing,] then, the fear of the Lord, we persuade men; [but we are made manifest to God, and I hope that we are made manifest] in your consciences too.” … “if we say anything great” … to be thought too bold among you. “Knowing, then,” he says, “that fearful tribunal, we do everything so as to give you no handle, no stumbling block, nor any false suspicion of a wicked deed against us.” Do you see the strictness of his way of life and the earnestness of a caring soul? “For not only if we do something wicked,” he says, “are we accused; but even if we do not, but are suspected, and, having it in our power to beat off the suspicion, [neglect to do so,] we pay the penalty.”

“We are not commending ourselves to you again, [but giving you cause to boast] on our behalf.” See how continually he corrects the suspicion of seeming to praise himself. For nothing so offends hearers as someone saying great and wonderful things about himself. Since, then, he was compelled to fall into this subject of discourse, he uses a correction, saying, “We do this for you, not for ourselves, so that you may have something to take pride in, not so that we may”; and not simply this, but because of the false apostles. That is why he added, “against those who boast in appearance and not in heart.” Do you see how he drew them away from those men and drew them to himself, showing that the Corinthians themselves longed to have some occasion by which they could speak for him and defend him against his accusers? “For we say these things not so that we may boast,” he says, “but so that you may have freedom to speak on our behalf”—which bears witness to great love for them—“and not simply so that you may boast, but so that you may not be swept away.” But he does not say it so plainly; he handles the statement differently and more gently, and without striking at those men, saying, “so that you may have something to boast of against those who boast in appearance.” But not even this does he bid them do simply, without a cause, but when those men exalt themselves; for everywhere he looks for the right occasion. So he does this not to show himself splendid, but to stop those who were using the matter improperly and to the harm of these. What is “in appearance”? In what is seen, in what is for display. For such were those men, doing everything for ambition and empty within, having the face of piety and appearing grave, but destitute of good works.

“For if we are beside ourselves, it is for God; if we are of sound mind, it is for you.” … [If we have said something great about ourselves,] the word (for this is what he calls being beside oneself, as elsewhere he calls it foolishness), we do it for God’s sake, so that you may not think us mean, despise us, and perish; and if something moderate and humble, it is for your sake, so that you may learn humility. Or again he means this: if anyone thinks us mad, we demand the reward from God, for whose sake we are suspected of this; but if he thinks us of sound mind, let him enjoy our sound mind. And again in another way: does someone say we are mad? It is for God that we are mad so.

That is why he adds, “For the love of God controls us, having judged this.” “For not only the fear of things to come,” he says, “but also what has already happened does not let us be careless or sleep, but rouses us to labors for you and drives us on.” And what has already happened? “That if one died for all, then all died.” “As if all had perished,” he says. For he would not have died for all if all had not died. For here are the occasions of salvation, but there no longer. That is why he says, “The love of God controls us and does not let us be still.” For it is the extremity of wretchedness, and harder than Gehenna itself, after he has shown so great a deed, that some should be found reaping nothing after such great care of his. For great is the excess of love, both to die for so great a world, and to die for it when it was in such a state. “That those who live might no longer live for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.” If, then, we must not live for ourselves, do not be disturbed, he says, nor troubled when dangers and deaths come upon you. And he sets down an indisputable reasoning, by which he shows that the thing is a debt. For if we live through him who died, we ought to live for him through whom we live. And what is said seems to be one thing, but if one examines it exactly, it is two: one, that we live through him; the other, that he died for us; each of which by itself is enough to make us liable; and when both come together, consider how great the debt is. Or rather it is three; for he also raised the firstfruits for your sake and took it up to heaven; that is why he added, “for him who died and was raised for us.”

“So from now on we know no one according to the flesh.” For if all died and all rose—died in that sin’s tyranny condemned them, and rose through the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit—he rightly says, “We know no one of the faithful according to the flesh.” For what if they are in the flesh? That fleshly life has perished, and we have been born again from above in the Spirit, and we know another way of life and conduct and life and state, that in the heavens. And again he shows that Christ is the author of this very thing; that is why he added, “Even though we once knew Christ according to the flesh, we no longer know him so.”

What then, tell me? Did he lay aside the flesh, and is he not now with the body? Far from it; for even now he is in the flesh. “For this Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way.” In what way? In the flesh, with the body. How then does he say, “Even though we once knew Christ according to the flesh, we no longer know him so”? For us, “according to the flesh” means being in sins, and “not according to the flesh” means not being in sins; but for Christ, “according to the flesh” means being subject to the sufferings of nature, such as thirsting, hungering, growing tired, sleeping (“For he committed no sin, nor was deceit found in his mouth”; that is why he said, “Which of you convicts me of sin?” and again, “The ruler of this world is coming, and he has nothing in me”); and “not according to the flesh” means being freed from these too from now on, not being outside the flesh. For he comes with it to judge the world, having it free from suffering and pure; to which we too shall go, when our body is conformed to the body of his glory.

“So if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” For since he had urged them to virtue from love, he now leads them to it from the facts themselves too; that is why he added, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” “If anyone has believed in him,” he says, “he has come into another creation; for he was born again from above through the Spirit. So for this reason too,” he says, “we ought to live for him: not only because we are not our own, nor only because he died for us, nor only because he raised our firstfruits, but because we have come into another life.” See how many claims to living well he sets down. That is why he calls the amendment by a more weighty name, to show how great the transfer and change is. Then, going further into what he said, and showing how it is a new creation, [he says,] “The old things have passed away.” What old things? He means sins and impieties, or all the Jewish things; or rather both these and those. “Behold, all things have become new. And all things are from God.” Nothing from us. For forgiveness of sins and adoption and incorruptible glory have been given us by him. For he urges them on no longer from things to come only, but from present things too. Consider: he said that we shall rise, and go on to incorruption, and have an eternal house; but since present things have greater force to persuade than future ones for those who do not believe these as they should, he shows how much they have already received and what they were when they received it. What were they when they received it? All dead (“For all,” he says, “died, and he died for all,” [so he loved all alike; all grown old] in evils). But behold, a new soul (for it was cleansed), and a new body, and a new worship, and new promises, and covenant, and life, and table, and robe, and simply all things new. For instead of the Jerusalem below we have received the mother city above; instead of a temple of sense we have seen a spiritual temple; instead of [tablets of stone, tablets of flesh; instead of circumcision, baptism]; instead of manna, the Master’s body; instead of water from the rock, blood from the side; instead of the rod of Moses or Aaron, the cross; instead of the land of promise, the kingdom of heaven; instead of countless priests, one high priest; instead of an irrational lamb, a spiritual lamb. Reckoning these and such things he said, “All things are new.” And all these are from God, through Christ and his gift. That is why he added, “who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” For from this come all good things. He who made us friends is himself the cause of the other things too, which God gave to his friends. For he did not repay us so while letting us remain enemies, but by making us his friends. When I say that Christ is the cause of reconciliation, I mean the Father too; when I say that the Father gave, I mean the Son too. “For all things came to be through him”; and he himself is the cause of this too. For we did not run to him, but he called us. How did he call? By the slaying of Christ.

“And gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” Here again he shows the dignity of the apostles, showing how great a thing they were entrusted with, and the excess of God’s love. For not even when they refused to hear the ambassador who came was he provoked and let them go; but he persists in beseeching, both through himself and through others. Who could be amazed enough at this care? The Son, the true-born and only-begotten, came for reconciliation and was slain; and not even so did the Father turn away from those who had killed him, nor say, “I sent my Son as an ambassador, and they not only would not hear him, but killed and crucified him; it is right to let them go from now on”; but quite the opposite: when he had departed, he entrusted the matter to us. “For he gave us,” he says, “the ministry of reconciliation: that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them.” Do you see a love surpassing all speech, all mind? Who was the one insulted? He. Who came first to reconciliation? He. “And yet he sent the Son,” someone says; “he did not come himself.” He sent the Son, yet the Son did not beseech alone, but the Father too, with him and through him. That is why he said, “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ,” that is, through Christ. For since he said, “who gave us the ministry of reconciliation,” he uses a correction, saying, “Do not think that we are the authors of the thing; we are ministers; but the one who does the whole is God, who reconciled the world through the Only-begotten.” And how did he reconcile it to himself? For this is the wonder, not only that he became a friend, but that he became a friend in this way. In what way? By forgiving them their sins; for there was no other way. That is why he added, “not counting their trespasses against them.” For if he had wished to demand an account of their offenses, we would all have perished, for all died. Yet though the sins were so many, he not only did not exact the penalty, but was even reconciled; not only forgave, but did not even count them. So we too must forgive our enemies, so that we too may obtain the same forgiveness. “And has entrusted to us the word of reconciliation.” “For we have not come now on any burdensome errand, but to make all men friends of God. Since they were not persuaded by me,” he says, “you remain, beseeching, until you persuade them.” That is why he added, “So we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were beseeching through us. We beg you on behalf of Christ, [be reconciled] to God.”

Do you see how he exalted the matter, bringing in Christ as the one who makes this supplication? Or rather not Christ only, but the Father too? [For the Father sent the Son] to beseech and to be his ambassador to human nature. “Since, then, he was slain and departed, we have succeeded to the embassy, and we beseech you in his stead and the Father’s. So greatly is the human race honored that he both gave up his Son, knowing that he would be slain, and made us apostles for your sake”; so he rightly said, “All things are for your sake.” “So we are ambassadors for Christ,” that is, in Christ’s place; “for we have taken up his work.” And if this seems great to you, hear what follows too, by which he shows that they do this not in Christ’s place only but also in the Father’s. That is why he added, “as though God were beseeching through us.” “For he beseeches not only through his Son, but through us too, who have taken up his work. Do not think, then,” he says, “that it is we who are entreating you; Christ himself beseeches you, the Father of Christ himself, through us.” What could equal this excess? For he who had bestowed countless benefits, and was insulted, not only did not exact the penalty, but gave his Son [that we might be reconciled; and those who received him were not reconciled], but even slew him. Again he sent other ambassadors to beseech; and when these were sent, it is he himself who entreats. What does he entreat? “Be reconciled to God.” And he did not say, “Reconcile God to yourselves”; for it is not he who is hostile, but you; for God is never hostile. [Then, urging his cause like] an ambassador sent [on a mission, he says,]

“For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin.” “I do not speak of the former things: that you insulted him, though he had done no wrong, though he had done you good; that he did not exact a penalty; that he beseeches first, though he was insulted first; let none of those things count for now. For this alone would you not be bound to be reconciled, for what he has done for you now? And what has he done? He made him who knew no sin to be sin for your sake.” For even if he had accomplished nothing else, and had done this alone, consider how great a thing it was to give his Son for those who had insulted him. But now he has both accomplished great things, and besides these, let the one who had done no wrong be punished for those who had done wrong. But he did not say this; he set down what is far greater than this. What is that? “Him who knew no sin,” he says, him who is righteousness itself, “he made to be sin”; that is, he let him be condemned as a sinner, die as one accursed: “For cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.” For to die so was far greater than to die; hinting at which elsewhere too he says, “becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.” For the thing carried not punishment only, but shame too. Consider, then, how much he has given you. For it is a great thing even for a sinner to die for anyone at all; but when the one who suffers this is righteous, and dies for sinners, and not only dies but as one accursed, and not only as one accursed, but also bestows on us from it great goods which we never expected (“so that we might become the righteousness of God in him,” he says), what speech, what mind will be able to set these things forth? “For he made the righteous one a sinner,” he says, “so that he might make sinners righteous.” Or rather he did not even say so, but something far greater; for he did not set down the state but the very quality. For he did not say, “He made him a sinner,” but “sin”; not “him who did not sin” only, but “him who did not even know sin”; “so that we might become”—he did not say “righteous,” but “righteousness,” and “the righteousness of God.” For this is God’s, when we are justified not from works (when there must be no stain found), but from grace, where all sin has been blotted out. This at once does not let us be puffed up, since God has given the whole, and teaches the greatness of what was given. For that former righteousness was of the Law and of works, but this is the righteousness of God.

Considering these things, then, let us fear these words more than Gehenna; let us revere these deeds more than the kingdom; and let us think it hard not to be punished, but to sin. For even if he did not punish us, we ought to exact the penalty from ourselves, having been so ungrateful toward our benefactor. Now one who has a beloved has often even slain himself when he did not obtain his love; and when he has obtained it and offended against her, he does not think himself worthy to live; but when we insult one so loving and gentle, shall we not cast ourselves into the fire of Gehenna? I will say something paradoxical and wonderful, and perhaps incredible to many: for one who has provoked one so loving, if he has sense and loves the Master as he ought, it will be a greater consolation to be punished than not to be punished. And this can be seen from common experience too. For one who has wronged his dearest friend is most at rest when he exacts the penalty from himself and suffers ill. So David too said, “I the shepherd have sinned, and I the shepherd have done evil; but these, the flock, what have they done? Let your hand be upon the house of my father.” And when he lost Absalom, he exacted the utmost penalty from himself; and yet he was not the wrongdoer but the wronged; yet since he greatly loved the one who had departed, he racked himself with pains, consoling himself in this way. We too, then, when we sin against one against whom we ought not to sin, should exact the penalty from ourselves. Do you not see those who have lost true-born children, how for this reason they beat themselves and tear their hair, because punishing themselves for the ones they love brings consolation? And if, when we have done no harm to our dearest, it brings us consolation to suffer ill because they have suffered ill, when we ourselves are the ones who provoked and insulted, will it not much more give us rest to pay the penalty, than not to be punished? It is plain to everyone. If anyone loves Christ as he ought, he knows what I am saying: how he will not endure not being punished, even if Christ allows it; for you suffer the greatest punishment in having provoked him. I know I am saying things incredible to many; but so it is … as I have said. If, then, we love Christ as we ought, we shall punish ourselves when we sin. For to those who love anyone, it is not suffering ill for having provoked the beloved that is unpleasant, but, before everything, the very provoking of the beloved. And if the beloved, being angry, does not punish, he torments the lover the more; but if he exacts a penalty, he consoles him the more. Let us not fear Gehenna, then, but offending God; for this is harder than that, since this is more burdensome than all things. And so that you may learn how great it is, consider what I say. Suppose a king, seeing a robber and evildoer being punished, gave his beloved, only-begotten, true-born son to be slain, and with the death transferred the guilt too from that man to his son, who was not such, so as both to save the condemned man and to free him from his evil repute; and then, having raised him to high office after the salvation and the unspeakable glory, he were insulted by the one who had received such benefits; would not that man, if he had sense, choose to die ten thousand times rather than be shown guilty of such ingratitude? Let us reckon this now too, and groan bitterly for having provoked our benefactor; and let us not take courage because he bears our insults patiently, but be stung by this very fact. For among men too, when someone struck on the right cheek offers the left, he avenges himself more than if he had given countless blows; and when someone reviled not only does not revile in return but even blesses, he has struck harder than if he had poured countless reproaches on him. If among men we are put to shame [by such patience], much more with God must those who sin continually and suffer nothing dreadful be afraid; for the unspeakable punishment is being stored up for them to the hurt of their own heads. Considering these things, then, let us fear sin before all; for this is punishment, this is Gehenna, this is countless evils. And let us not only fear it but flee it, and be eager continually to please God; for this is the kingdom, this is life, this is countless goods. So we shall obtain the kingdom from here and now, and 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. Amen.

“Working together with him, then, we also beseech you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says, ‘At an acceptable time I listened to you, and on a day of salvation I helped you.’”

Since he had said, “God beseeches, and we are ambassadors and entreat you, be reconciled to God,” so that they might not fall back, he again frightens and rouses them from this, saying, “We beseech you not to receive the grace of God in vain.” “For do not let us grow careless because he beseeches,” he says, “and has sent ambassadors; but for this very reason let us hasten to please God and to gather a spiritual merchandise” (which he said above too: “The love of God controls us,” that is, presses, drives, urges us on), “so that you may not, after so great care, fall back and show nothing noble, and so fall away from such great goods. Do not think, then, because he has sent men to beseech, that this will always be so. It will be until his second coming; until then he beseeches, as long as we are here; but after that, judgment and punishment.” That is why he says, “We are controlled.” For he always urges them on not only from the greatness of the goods and from God’s love for humankind, but also from the shortness of the time. That is why elsewhere he says, “For salvation is nearer to us now,” and again, “The Lord is near.” But here he does something more: he leads them on not only from the remaining time being short and small, but also from this time alone being fit for salvation. “For behold,” he says, “now is the acceptable time; behold, the day of salvation.” “Let us not betray the opportune time, then, but show an earnestness worthy of the grace. For this is why we too are urgent, knowing both the shortness and the fitness of the time.” That is why he said, “Working together, we also beseech.” “Working together with you; for we work together with you rather than with God, for whom we are ambassadors. For he needs nothing; but the whole salvation passes over to you.” And if he does say that he works together with God, he does not decline that either; for elsewhere he says, “For we are God’s fellow workers.” In this way, he says, he saves men again. “And we beseech.” For when God beseeches, he does not simply beseech, but holds out these claims: that he gave the righteous Son, who did not even know sin, and made him sin for us sinners, so that we might become righteous; having these claims, and being God, he ought not to beseech, and that men who have offended, but to be besought every day; yet he beseeches. “But we beseech, having no claim of our own to mention, nor any benefit, but one thing only, to beseech on behalf of God, who has shown such things. And we beseech you to receive the benefit and not to thrust away the gift. Be persuaded by us, then, and do not receive the grace in vain.” For so that they might not think that this alone is required, to believe the one who calls, he adds this, demanding earnestness about one’s life. For one who has been freed from sins and become a friend to wallow again in former things is to go back to enmity, and to receive the grace in vain as regards one’s life. For we gain nothing great from grace toward salvation if we live impurely; rather we are harmed the more, being weighed down by this too in our sins, because after such knowledge and such a gift we have gone back to the former evils. But he nowhere puts this, so as not to make the statement harsh; he says only that we gain nothing. Then he recalls a prophecy too, urging them on and pushing them to rise up to lay hold of their own salvation: “For he says, ‘At an acceptable time I listened to you, and on a day of salvation I helped you.’ Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” “Acceptable time”—what is it? The time of the gift, of grace, when there is no account to be demanded for sins nor penalty to pay, but along with release one may enjoy countless goods: righteousness, sanctification, and all the rest. For how much one would have had to labor to obtain this time! But behold, without our having labored at all, it has come, bringing forgiveness of everything before. That is why he calls it acceptable, because it received even those who had offended countless times, and not simply received them, but led them to the highest honor; as when an emperor arrives, it is not a time for courts but for grace and salvation. That is why he calls it acceptable, while we are still in the arena, while we are working in the vineyard, while the eleventh hour remains.

Let us come forward and show a good life; for it is easy. For one who contends at such a time, when so great a gift has been poured out, so great grace, will easily obtain the prizes. For with the kings below too, at the time of their festivals and when they appear in consular dress, even one who has offered little receives great gifts; but on the days when they sit in judgment, there is need of great exactness and great scrutiny. So let us too contend at the time of this gift; it is a day of grace, of divine grace; so we shall easily obtain the crowns. For if he accepted and freed us when we were full of such great evils, will he not much more accept us when we have been freed from all and contribute our own part?

Then, as he always does, setting himself in the midst and bidding them take the example from there, he does this here too. That is why he adds, “giving no offense in anything, so that our ministry may not be blamed”; persuading them not from the time only, but also from [those who had done well]. And see how free of pride: for he did not say, “Look at us, that we are such”; but for the present he relates his own affairs to remove an accusation. And he sets down two superlatives of a blameless life, saying, “no offense in anything.” And he did not say “accusation,” but what was much less, “offense,” that is, blame—giving no one ground to condemn us. “So that our ministry may not be blamed,” that is, so that no one may lay hold of it. And again he did not say, “so that it may not be accused,” but so that it may not have even an ordinary charge, nor anyone be able to reproach it in anything. “But in everything commending ourselves as ministers of God.” This is far greater. For to be free from accusation is not equal to showing such things that one appears on every side as a minister of God; to be freed from accusation is not equal to teeming with praises. And he did not say “appearing,” but “commending,” that is, proving. Then he says how they came to be such. How then? “In much endurance,” he says, laying the foundation of good things. And he did not say simply “endurance,” but “much,” and shows its greatness too. For to bear one thing or two is nothing great; but he adds the snowstorms of temptations, saying, “in afflictions, in necessities.” This is an intensifying of affliction, when the evils are inescapable and a kind of necessity of dreadful things pours over one, hard to get out of. “In distresses”: either those of hunger and other necessities, or simply those of temptations. “In beatings, in imprisonments, in tumults.” And yet each of these by itself was unbearable: to be scourged alone, to be bound alone, and to be unable to stand anywhere, being driven about (for this is “in tumults”); but when all come, and all come at once, consider what a soul it needs. Then besides the things from outside he sets down his own: “in labors, in watchings, in fastings, in purity.” By these he hints at the toils he endured going about and working, the nights in which he taught, or in which he also worked. And with all these he did not neglect fasting either, though these things were as good as countless fasts. By purity here he means either chastity again, or purity in everything, or incorruptibility, or preaching the gospel free of charge. “In knowledge.” What is “in knowledge”? In the wisdom given by God, the true knowledge; not like those who seem to be wise and boast of outside learning, but are deficient in this. “In long-suffering, in kindness.” For this too belonged to a noble soul: when provoked and goaded on every side, to bear everything with long-suffering. Then, showing how he became such, he added, “in the Holy Spirit.” “For in him we achieve all these things,” he says. But see when he set down the help from the Holy Spirit: when he had shown his own part. And he seems to me to mean something else by this too. What is it? That we are filled with much of the Spirit, and prove our apostleship from this too, from being counted worthy of spiritual gifts. For even if this is grace, he himself is the cause too, having drawn the grace by his good deeds and sweat. And if someone should say that besides what has been said he shows that even in spiritual grace he gave no offense, he would not miss the sense. For those among them who had received tongues and were puffed up were blamed; for one may receive a spiritual gift and not use it as one should. “But not we,” he says; “but in the Spirit too,” that is, in the gifts too, “we were blameless.” “In love unfeigned.” [3.] This is the cause of all good things; this made him such, this made the Spirit remain with him, through whom everything was achieved by him. “In the word of truth”—which he says in many places: “We have continued neither adulterating the word of God nor counterfeiting it.” “In the power of God.” As he always does, ascribing nothing to himself but the whole to God, and reckoning his own good deeds to him, so he has done here too. For since he had uttered great things and said that he had shown a blameless life in everything and the highest wisdom, he ascribes these to the Spirit and to God. For what was said was no ordinary thing. For if it is hard even for one living in peace to do well and be blameless, consider what a soul it needs for one troubled by so many temptations to shine in everything. And he did not endure these only, but much more than these, which he sets down next. And the wonder is not that he was blameless sailing amid such waves, nor that he endured everything nobly, but that he endured everything with pleasure, as he makes plain to us by what follows, saying thus: “by the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left.” Do you see the presence of mind and the vigor of spirit? For he shows that afflictions are weapons, not only not casting down, but walling around and making stronger. He calls “left” the things that seem painful; for these too are such as have the reward. Why then does he call them so? Either according to the opinion of the many, or because God commanded us to pray not to enter into temptation.

“Through glory and dishonor, through ill report and good report.” What are you saying? That you enjoy glory, you count this a great thing? “Yes,” he says. Why? To bear dishonor is great; but does sharing glory not need a vigorous soul? A vigorous one indeed, and very great, so as not to be thrown when enjoying it. That is why he prides himself on this as an extraordinary thing; for he shone alike in both. How does it become a weapon of righteousness? Because teachers being in honor leads many to piety; and it is a proof of good works, and glorifies God. And this too belongs to God’s skill, to bring in the preaching through opposite things. Consider: was Paul bound? This too was for the gospel: “For my circumstances,” he says, “have turned out for the advance of the gospel, [so that most of the brothers,] confident because of my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.” Did he enjoy glory again? This again made them more eager. “Through ill report and good report.” For he bore nobly not only the things in the body, the afflictions and all he enumerated, but also what touches the soul alone; for these too are apt to trouble greatly. Jeremiah at any rate, though he bore many temptations, gave up at these, and when he was reproached he said, “I will not prophesy, nor name the name of the Lord.” And David too in many places laments reproach. And Isaiah, after much, exhorts about this, saying, “Do not fear the reproach of men, and do not be overcome by their contempt.” And Christ too says to the disciples, “When they say every evil word against you falsely, rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven”; and elsewhere, “and leap for joy.” He would not have set so great a reward if the contest were not great. For in tortures the body shares the pains with the soul; for the toil is both of body and of soul; but there it is of the soul alone. Many at any rate have fallen through these alone and destroyed their own souls. And to Job the reproaches from his friends seemed more burdensome than the worms and the wounds. For there is nothing, nothing more unbearable [to the afflicted than a word that stings the] soul. That is why he sets these too with the dangers and the sweat, saying, “through glory and dishonor.” For many of the Jews too would not believe because of the glory of the many; for they feared, not that they might be punished, but that they might be put out of the synagogue; that is why he says, “How can you believe, who receive glory from one another?” And we may see many who despised all dreadful things but were defeated by glory. “As deceivers, and true”: this is “through ill report and good report.” “As unknown, and well known”: this is “through glory and dishonor.” For to some they were known and much sought after, while others did not think them worth knowing. “As dying, and behold, we live”: as condemned to death and sentenced; which itself was a matter of dishonor.

He said this showing both God’s [unspeakable] power and their endurance. “For as far as the plotters were concerned, we died, and everyone thinks so; but because of God we escaped the dangers.” Then, showing why God permits these things, he added, “as chastened and not killed,” showing the great gain that comes to them from temptations even before the rewards, and their enemies helping them against their will. “As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.” “For to those outside we are suspected of being in dejection; but we do not attend to them, but have our pleasure at its height.” And he did not say “rejoicing” only, but added its continuance too: “always rejoicing,” he says. What, then, could equal this life, in which, though so many dreadful things come upon it, the joy becomes greater? “As poor, yet making many rich.” Some say that spiritual wealth is meant here; but I would say material wealth too; for they were rich in this too, having the houses of everyone open to them in a new way. And he showed this by what follows, saying, “as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.” “And how is this possible?” Rather, how is the opposite possible? For one who possesses much has nothing, but one who has nothing has acquired everything. And not here only, but in the other things too, opposites came about through opposites. And if you wonder how one who has nothing has everything, let us bring this very man into the midst, who gave commands to the world, and was master not of their money only but of their very eyes: “For if possible,” he says, “you would have dug out your eyes and given them to me.” He says this teaching them not to be troubled at the opinions of the many, even if they call them deceivers, even if they do not know them, even if they think them condemned, in poverty, having nothing, dejected in their cheerfulness; for neither is the sun visible to the blind, nor the pleasure of the sober plain to madmen. For only the faithful are right judges of things, and they do not rejoice and grieve at the same things as others. For if someone inexperienced in contests saw a boxer with wounds and wearing a crown, he would think he was pained by the wounds, not knowing the pleasure of the crown. So these men too, since they know what we suffer but not why we suffer, rightly suspect only these things, seeing the wrestlings and the dangers, but no longer the prizes and the crowns and the purpose of the contests.

What then were all the things Paul possessed, when he said, “as having nothing, and yet possessing all things”? Things of this life, spiritual things. For he whom cities received as an angel, for whom they would have dug out their eyes and given them, for whom they laid down their own necks—how did he not have everything of theirs? And if you wish to see the spiritual things too, you will see him richest of all in these. For one who was so much the friend of the King of all as to share secrets with the Master of the angels—how was he not more abundantly supplied than all, and did he not have everything? Demons would not otherwise have been so subject to him, passions and diseases would not have fled so. So we too, when we suffer anything for Christ, let us not only bear it nobly but even rejoice; if we fast, let us be disposed as if feasting; if we give to the poor, let us think we are receiving; for one who does not give so will not give easily. When you want to scatter, then, do not look only at the fact that you spend, but that you gain more, and that before the other. And not only in almsgiving, but in every virtue, reckon not the bitterness of the labors but the sweetness of the prizes; and before all, the cause of the wrestlings, our Lord Jesus; and you will easily enter the contests and live all your time in pleasure. For nothing is so apt to produce pleasure as a good conscience. That is why Paul, beaten every day, rejoiced and exulted; while those now, enduring none of these things even in a dream, grieve and lament, for no other reason than not having a wise mind. For why, tell me, the lament? Because you are poor and lack necessities? Then you ought to lament the more for this, not because you weep, not because you are poor, but because you are small-souled; not because you have no money, but because you value money so highly. Paul died daily and did not weep, but even rejoiced; he fought continual hunger and was not pained, but even took pride in it.

But you, because you do not have all the year’s supplies laid up, grieve and beat yourself? “Yes,” he says; “for he cared only for his own affairs, but I care for servants and children and wife.” On the contrary, he cared not only for his own affairs but for those of the whole world. You care for one house, he for the poor in Jerusalem, so many as they were, for those in Macedonia, for the poor everywhere, for those who gave to them no less than for those who received. For his care for the world was double: both that they might not lack necessities and that they might be rich in spiritual things. And hungry children do not grieve you as much as all the affairs of the faithful grieved him. Why do I say the affairs of the faithful? He was not free even from care for unbelievers, but was so wasted by it that he prayed even to be accursed for them; but you, even if famine prevailed ten thousand times, would never choose to die for anyone at all. You care for one wife, he for all the churches throughout the world: “For my care,” he says, “is for all the churches.” How long, then, man, will you play, comparing yourself with Paul, and not stop this great smallness of soul? For we ought to weep not when we are in poverty, but when we sin; for this deserves lament, while the other things deserve even laughter. “But it is not only this that grieves me,” he says, “but that so-and-so is in power, while I am without honor and cast aside.” And what of it? For blessed Paul too seemed to the many to be without honor and cast aside. “But he was Paul,” he says. Then it is not the nature of things but the weakness of your mind that causes your dejection. So do not lament poverty, but yourself for being so disposed; or rather, do not lament yourself, but set yourself right; and do not seek money, but pursue what makes people brighter than countless riches: wisdom and virtue. When this is present, poverty does no harm; when it is absent, money is of no profit. For what profit, tell me, is there in the rich who have impoverished souls? You do not count yourself as wretched as that rich man counts himself, because he does not have everyone’s goods. And if he does not weep as you do, open up his conscience, and you will see the lamentations.

Do you want me to show you your wealth, so that you may stop calling those rich in money blessed? Do you see this heaven, how beautiful, how great, how lofty it lies? He does not enjoy this beauty more than you, nor could he push you aside and make it all his own; for as it was made for him, so it was made for you. And the sun, this bright and far-shining star that gladdens our eyes, is it not set before all in common, and do not all enjoy it equally, rich and poor? And the crown of the stars and the circle of the moon, are they not likewise open to all? Or rather, if I must say something wonderful, we poor enjoy them more than they do. For they, mostly drowned in drunkenness, spending their time in revels and deep sleep, do not even perceive these things, living under roofs and in the shade; but the poor above all are those who delight in these elements. And if you examine the air poured out everywhere, you will see the poor man enjoying it purer and more abundantly. For travelers and farmers delight in these more than those in the city, and among those in the city the craftsmen more than those who are drunk all day. And the earth, is it not open to all in common? “No,” someone says. How do you say this, tell me? “Because the rich man cuts off many parts for himself both in the city and in the fields.” What then? Because he cuts them off, does he enjoy them alone? Not at all, even if he contends ten thousand times; for he is compelled to distribute the fruits to all, and he farms grain and wine and oil for you, and serves you everywhere. And of the long enclosures and the buildings, after the unspeakable expense and the labors and the hardships, he prepares the use for you, taking a little money from you for so great a service. And in baths and everywhere one may see the same thing happening: the rich enjoying all these things with money and cares and labors, but the poor with a few obols and without anxiety. And he enjoys the earth no more than you; for surely he does not fill ten bellies and you one. “But he partakes of more costly foods.” In the first place this is no great advantage; but even here we shall find you having more. For this costliness seems enviable to you because it has more pleasure; but this is greater with the poor man—not pleasure only, but health too. And in this alone the rich man has the advantage, that he makes his body weaker and gathers more sources of illness. For all the poor man’s affairs are managed according to nature, but his end in corruption and sickness through excess.

[6.] If you will, let us see this by an example too. If a furnace had to be lit, and one [threw in silken garments and fine linens,] countless, and kindled it so, but another with wood of oak and pine, what more would the one have than the other? Nothing, but rather less. What then (for nothing prevents us turning the same example another way), if one threw on wood and another burned bodies, at which furnace would you gladly stand, that of wood or that of bodies? Plainly that of wood; for it burns according to nature and is a pleasant sight to those who see it; but the other would drive everyone away with the reek and the fluid and the smoke and the stench of bones. … having heard, and did you loathe the furnace? Such are the bellies of the rich. For one would find more rottenness in them than in that furnace, and foul-smelling winds and unclean fluxes, because there is much indigestion everywhere and in every part through surfeit. For since the natural heat is not enough to work everything up, [but smothered by them, the excess lies] above, causing great disgust. To what then might one compare their bellies? But do not be annoyed at my words, but refute me if I do not speak the truth. To what then might one compare them? For what has been said is not enough to show their wretchedness. I have found another image too. What is it? As with the sewers, where much rubbish of dung, hay, straw, stones, and mud causes continual blockages, and the stream of filth then overflows from above, so it happens with these men’s belly: when it is blocked below, more of these wicked fluxes bubble up from above. But not so with the poor; but as [streams that water] gardens are clean, so their bellies are clean of such excesses. But not so the bellies of the rich, or rather of those who live in luxury; they are filled with [fluxes, phlegm, bile,] rotten [blood], and other such things. That is why no one living continually in luxury will hold out even for a short time, but will live in continual illnesses. So I would gladly ask them why food was given: that we may be destroyed or nourished? That we may be sick or healthy? That we may be weak or strong? Plainly for nourishment and health and strength. Why then have you used it for the opposite, making disease and weakness for the body by it? But not so the poor man: he buys health and vigor and strength with plain food. So do not weep because of poverty, the mother of health, but even rejoice; and if you wish to be rich, despise wealth. For it is not having money, but not needing to have it, that is true abundance. If we achieve this, we shall be more abundantly supplied than all the rich here, and there 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. Amen.

“Our mouth is opened to you, Corinthians; our heart is enlarged. You are not restricted in us, but you are restricted in your own affections.”

Having related his temptations and afflictions (“in endurance,” he says, “in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in beatings, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in watchings”), and having shown that the thing is a great good (“as sorrowful,” he says, “yet always rejoicing; … as having nothing, and yet possessing all things”), and having called them weapons; (“as chastened,” he says, “and not killed”), and having displayed through them God’s great care and power (“so that the surpassing greatness of the power,” he says, “may be of God and not from us”), and having listed his contests (“For we always carry about his dying,” he says), and that this is a clear proof of the resurrection (“so that the life of Jesus too,” he says, “may be manifested in our mortal flesh”), and of what he had become a partner, and what he was entrusted with (“For we are ambassadors for Christ,” he says, “as though God were beseeching through us”), and of what he is a minister, that it is not of the letter but of the Spirit, and that he is to be revered not for this only but also for his temptations (“For thanks be to God,” he says, “who always leads us in triumph”)—he is now about to rebuke them too, as not very warmly disposed toward him. But though he is about to, he does not come to it at once; but having first spoken of the love he showed toward them, he then enters into the discussion of these matters. For even if the one who rebukes is to be revered from his own good deeds, yet when he shows also the friendship he has toward those he accuses, he makes his words less burdensome. That is why he too, passing from his temptations and sweat and contests, moves on to the discourse about love, and so takes hold of them. What then are the signs of love? “Our mouth is opened to you, Corinthians.” And what sort of sign of love is this? And what does the saying mean at all? “We cannot bear to be silent toward you,” he says, “but we always wish and desire to speak and converse with you”; which is the habit of those who love. For what embraces of the arms are for the body, intercourse of speech is for the soul. And with this he hints at something else too. What is it? “That we speak everything to you with freedom, as to beloved ones, keeping nothing back nor hoarding anything.” For since he is about to rebuke them, he asks pardon, making the very rebuking with freedom a proof of loving them greatly. And the addition of the name is a sign of much friendship and affection and warmth; for we are accustomed to use the bare names of those we love continually.

“Our heart is enlarged.” For as heat usually expands, so it is the work of love to enlarge; for love is a warm and boiling virtue. This opened Paul’s mouth and enlarged his heart. “For I do not love with the mouth only,” he says, “but I have the heart agreeing with it. That is why I speak with freedom, with my whole mouth, with my whole mind.” For nothing was broader than Paul’s heart, which loved all the faithful as vehemently as one loves a beloved, his love not being divided and weakened, but remaining whole in each. And why wonder in the case of the faithful, when, in the case of unbelievers too, Paul’s heart received the whole world? That is why he did not say, “I love you,” but more expressively, “Our mouth is opened, our heart is enlarged; we have you all within, and not simply so, but with much room.” For the beloved walks within the lover’s heart with great freedom. That is why he says, “You are not restricted in us, but you are restricted in your own affections.” And see the rebuke given with restraint, which belongs to those who love greatly. He did not say, “You do not love us,” but, “not with the same measure”; for he does not want to touch them sharply. And one may see everywhere how he burns for the faithful, by picking out the words of each of his letters. To the Romans he says, “[I long] to come to you,” and, “if somehow I may at last succeed in coming to you.” To the Galatians, “My little children, with whom I am again in labor.” To the Ephesians, “For this reason I bow my knees on your behalf.” To the Philippians, “For what is my hope or joy or crown of boasting? Is it not you?” and he said he carried them about in his heart and in his bonds. To the Colossians, “I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you, and for all who have not seen my face in the flesh, that their hearts may be comforted.” To the Thessalonians, “As a nurse cherishes [her children, so,] longing for you, we were pleased to impart to you not only the gospel but our own souls.” To Timothy, “Remembering your tears, so that I may be filled with joy.” To Titus, “To my beloved child”; and to Philemon likewise.

And to the Hebrews too he writes many other such things, and does not cease exhorting and saying, “Yet a little while, and the coming one will come and will not delay,” like a mother with fretful children. So too with these: “You are not restricted in us,” he says. And he says not only that he loves, but that he is loved by them, so as to draw them the more in this way too. And bearing witness to this he says, “Titus came, telling us of your longing, your mourning, your zeal”; and to the Galatians, “If possible, you would have dug out your eyes and given them to me”; and to the Thessalonians, “what kind of welcome we had among you”; and to Timothy, “remembering your tears, so that I may be filled with joy.” And everywhere in the letters one may find him bearing this witness to the disciples, both that he loved and that he is loved, though not equally. And here he says, “Though I love you the more, am I to be loved the less?” But that is toward the end; meanwhile, “… you are restricted in your own affections.” “You receive one man,” he says, “but I a whole city, and so great a people.” And he did not say, “You do not receive us,” but, “You are restricted,” hinting at the same thing, but with restraint, so as not to touch them sharply. “In return … widen your hearts too.” And yet it is not equal, to be loved first and then to love. For even if one brings in the same measure, he falls short by coming back second. “Yet I do not reckon exactly,” he says; “even if, having received the beginnings from me, you show the same measure, I love and cherish you.” Then, to show that the thing was a debt, and that what was said was free of flattery, he says, “I speak as to children.” What is “as to children”? “I ask nothing great, if, being a father, I wish to be loved by you.” And see his understanding and modesty. He does not set down here the dangers for them, and the labors and the deaths, though he had much to say; so free is he of pride; but he sets down the loving, and for this he asks to be loved: “because I became your father, because I burn greatly for you.” For this especially offends the beloved often, when someone brings up his benefits to him; for he seems to reproach him. That is why Paul does not do this, but says, “Love your father as children,” which is rather a matter of nature and owed to every father.

Then, so as not to seem to say these things for his own sake, he shows that it is for their gain that he draws their friendship too. That is why he added, “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers.” And he did not say, “Do not mix with unbelievers,” but, touching them more as wronging what is just, “Do not bend yourselves aside,” he says. “For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness?” Here he now makes a comparison not of his own love and that of those who were corrupting them, but of their nobility and those men’s disgrace; for so the discourse became more dignified and more fitting for him, and drew them more. As if someone said to a child [who despised his parents and gave himself to wicked men], “What are you doing, child? [Do you despise] your father, [and prefer] men full of countless wickednesses? Do you not know how much better and more honorable you are than they?” For so he withdraws him from their company more than if he admired the father. For if he says, “Do you not know how much better your father is than they?” he will not achieve so much; but if, leaving the father aside, he prefers the boy himself to them, saying, “Do you not know who you are and who they are? Do you not consider your nobility and freedom and their disgrace? What fellowship have you with those thieves, those adulterers, those sorcerers?” he will quickly give him wings by his praises. For the first speech he will not receive very well, because the preferring of the father is an accusation of himself, when he appears to grieve not only a father but such a father; but here he will suffer nothing of the kind. For no one would choose not to be praised; and through this, with the praise of the hearer, the refutation fills him with great spirit, and he spurns their company. And not only is this wonderful in him, that he advanced the comparison so, but that he devised something else greater and more striking: first, he put the statement in the form of a question, which belongs to things plain and agreed; then he broadened it by the density and number of the words. For he sets down not one or two or three, but more than these, names of things in place of persons, and sketches the highest virtue on one side and the extreme of wickedness on the other, and shows the gulf between to be great and infinite, so that it needs no argument. “For what partnership,” he says, “has righteousness with lawlessness? What fellowship has light with darkness? What agreement has Christ with Beliar? Or what portion has a believer with an unbeliever? Or what agreement has the temple of God with idols?” [3.] Do you see how he sets down the bare names, and finds them enough to turn them away? For he did not say “transgression,” which was more; nor “to those of the light and those of the darkness,” but sets down the opposites themselves, which do not admit their opposites, light and darkness. Nor did he say, “to those of Christ and those of the devil,” but what was much further apart, “Christ and Beliar,” calling the apostate so in the Hebrew tongue. “Or what portion has a believer with an unbeliever?” Here at last, so as not to seem simply to go through an accusation of wickedness and a praise of virtue, he mentions persons too, indefinitely. And he did not say “fellowship,” but set down the prizes, saying “portion.” “What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For you are the temple of the living God.” What he means is this: neither has your King anything in common with him (“For what agreement has Christ with Beliar?”), nor the things (“For what fellowship has light with darkness?”); so neither must you. And he puts the King first and them second, separating them most of all by this. Then, having said, “the temple of God with idols,” and having declared, “For you are the temple of the living God,” he necessarily adds the testimony too, showing that the thing is not flattery. For one who praises, unless he also gives proof, seems to flatter. What then is the testimony? “For I will dwell in them,” it says, “and walk among them.” “I will dwell” as in temples, “and walk among them,” showing his greater closeness to them. “And they shall be my people, and I will be their God.” “What,” he says, “do you carry God in yourself, and run to them—God, who has nothing in common with them? And where is this deserving of pardon? Consider who walks in you, who dwells in you.”

“Therefore come out from their midst and be separate, and touch nothing unclean; and I will welcome you, says the Lord.” And he did not say, “Do not do unclean things”; but seeking greater strictness, “Do not even touch,” he says, “do not even come near.” What is defilement of the flesh? Adultery, sexual immorality, all licentiousness. And of the spirit? Unclean thoughts, such as looking with licentious eyes, grudges, deceits, and all such things. He wants them, then, to be pure on both sides. Do you see how great the prize is? To be freed from wicked things, to be united with God. Hear what follows too: “And I will be a father to you, and you shall be my sons and daughters, says the Lord.” Do you see the prophet foretelling from of old the present nobility, the rebirth through grace? “Having these promises, then, beloved.” What promises? To be temples of God, sons and daughters, to have him dwelling and walking within, to become his people, to possess God himself as Father. “Let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of flesh and spirit.” Let us neither touch unclean things (for this is defilement of the flesh), nor the things that defile the soul (for this is of the spirit). And he is not content with this alone, but adds, “perfecting holiness in the fear of God.” For not touching what is unclean does not make one pure; we need something else too to become holy: earnestness, attention, piety. And he rightly said, “in the fear of God.” For it is possible to perfect chastity not in the fear of God but for vainglory. And with this, by saying “in the fear of God,” he hints at something else too, the manner in which holiness may be achieved. For even if desire is tyrannical, if you build up the fear of God as a wall against it, you have destroyed its madness. By holiness here he means not chastity only, but freedom from every sin; for the holy man is the pure man. And one would become pure not if he were freed from sexual immorality only, but also from greed and envy and arrogance and vainglory; and above all from vainglory, which must be fled everywhere, but much more in almsgiving; since it would not even be almsgiving if it had this disease, but display and cruelty. For when you act not in mercy but in parade, such a thing is not only not almsgiving but an insult; for you have made a public example of your brother. So almsgiving is not giving money, but giving with mercy. For those in the theaters too give, both to prostituted boys and to others on the stage, but such a thing is not almsgiving; and those who outrage the bodies of prostituted women give too, but this is not kindness but drunken violence. The vainglorious man is like this. For as that man, outraging the harlot’s body, gives her a wage for the outrage, so you too demand a wage from the one who receives the insult: to clothe both yourself and him with an evil reputation. And with this the loss is unspeakable. For like a wild beast or a mad dog leaping on us, this wicked disease and this inhumanity snatches away our good things; for such a thing is inhumanity and cruelty, or rather worse than this. For the cruel man would not give to the needy, but you do more than this: you hinder those who wish to give. For when you parade your gift, you both destroy the reputation of the one who received and blunt the one who was going to give, if he is careless. For he will no longer give, as to one who has received and is not so needy; and he will often even condemn him, if he comes and asks after receiving, and will think him shameless. What sort of almsgiving is this, then, when you put to shame yourself, and the one who received, and the one who commanded it doubly: both because, having him as spectator of the almsgiving, you seek the eyes of your fellow servants after him, and because you transgress the law laid down by him forbidding these things?

I wanted to go on to the other things too, fasting and prayer, and show how much vainglory spoils there too; but I remembered that I did not finish a necessary discussion in the preceding sermon. What was the discussion? I said that the poor have the advantage over the rich in worldly matters, since I was speaking of health and pleasure, and this was clearly shown. Come then, let us show today that not only in worldly matters but in higher ones too the advantage is with them. For what brings one into the kingdom, wealth or poverty? Let us hear the Master of the heavens himself saying of the rich, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven”; but of the poor the opposite: “If you wish to be perfect, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and come, follow me, and you will have treasure in heaven.” And if you will, let us see what was said from both sides. “Narrow and afflicted is the way,” he says, “that leads to life.” Who then walks the narrow way, the man in luxury or the man in poverty? The man alone, or the man carrying countless loads? The slack and dissolute man, or the one who is anxious and careful? But what need of reasonings, when we can come to persons themselves? Lazarus was poor, very poor; rich was the man who passed by him as he lay at the gate. Who then entered the [bosom of Abraham], and who was fried and was not master even of a drop? “But many poor will perish too,” someone says, “and rich men will enjoy those unspeakable goods.” On the contrary, one may see few rich being saved, and far more of the poor. Consider, examining exactly the hindrances of wealth and the defects of poverty; or rather of neither wealth nor poverty, but each belongs to those who possess them; yet let us see which is the more convenient weapon. What defect then does poverty seem to have? Lying. And what does wealth have? Pride, the mother of evils, which made even the devil a devil, though he was not such before. Again, “the love of money is the root of all evils”; who then stands near this root, the rich man or the poor man? Is it not plain that it is the rich? For the more one surrounds himself with, the more he desires. Vainglory again spoils countless good deeds; and near this too the rich man has pitched his tent. “But do you not set down the poor man’s troubles,” someone says, “affliction and distress?” But this is common to the rich man too, and to him more than to the poor; so what seem to be the evils of poverty are common to both, but those of wealth are his alone. “But what of when the poor man does many dreadful things through lack of necessities?” But no poor man does so many dreadful things through need as the rich do through wishing to gain more and not to lose what they have. For the poor man does not desire necessities as much as the rich man desires superfluities; nor again has he as much strength to use wickedness as this man has. If then the rich man both wishes more and is more able, it is plain that he will do more too. For neither does the poor man fear famine as much as the rich man trembles and chokes over the loss of his goods, and over not yet having taken everyone’s. When, then, he stands near vainglory and pride and the love of money, the root of all evils, what hope of salvation will he have unless he shows great wisdom? And how will he walk the narrow way? Let us not, then, carry about the opinions of the many, but examine the facts. For is it not absurd, about money, not to trust others but to entrust it to number and counting, but when voting about matters of life simply to be swept along by others’ opinions, though we have an exact balance and gauge and rule of all things, the verdict of the divine laws? So I urge and beseech you all: leaving aside what this one and that one thinks about these things, learn all these things from the Scriptures; and having learned the true wealth, let us pursue it, so that we may obtain the eternal good things; 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. Amen.

“[Make room for] us; we have wronged no one, [we have corrupted no one, we have taken advantage of no one. I do not say this to] condemn [you]; for I said before that you are in our hearts, to die together and to live together.”

Again he raises the discourse about love, softening the harshness of the rebuke. For since he had convicted and rebuked them as loved but not loving in the same way, but breaking away from his love [and mixing with other pestilent men, he again softens] the vehemence of the rebuke, saying, “Make room for us,” that is, “Love us,” and he asks to receive a favor that is no burden, and more profitable to those who give it than to those who receive it. And he did not say, “Love us,” but more pitifully, “[Who] has cast us out of your mind? Why are we restricted in you?” For since he said above, “You are restricted in your own affections,” here, making it clearer, he said, “Make room for us,” and in this way again draws them on. For nothing so produces friendship as for the beloved to learn that the lover greatly desires his love. “We have wronged no one.” See how again he does not set down his benefits, but makes his words both less burdensome and more striking in another way; and at the same time he hints [at the false apostles, saying, “We have wronged no one, we have corrupted no one, we have taken advantage of no one.”] What is “we have corrupted”? That is, we have deceived no one; as he says elsewhere too, “lest, as the serpent deceived Eve, so your minds be corrupted.” “We have taken advantage of no one”: we have not robbed, we have not plotted. And he does not yet say, “We helped you in this and that,” but making his words more shaming, he says, “We have not wronged you”; all but saying, “Even if we had done you no good, not even so ought you to turn away from us; for you have nothing, small or great, to accuse us of.” Then, since he perceived the heaviness of it, he corrects it again; and he neither kept silent altogether (for then he would not have roused them), nor left the harshness of his words uncorrected (for then he would have struck them the more). And what does he say? “I do not say this to condemn you.” How is it plain? “For I said before,” he says, “that you are in our hearts, to die together and to live together.” This is the greatest friendship, when one who is despised even chooses to die together and to live together with them. “For you are not simply in our hearts, but as I said.” For it is possible both to love and to flee dangers; but not so we. And see here too unspeakable understanding. For he did not mention what had been done for them, lest he seem again to reproach them, but promises for the future: “ready to suffer for you; and neither death nor life seems anything to me by itself, but wherever you are, that is preferable to me, death to life and life to death.” But to die is plainly a matter of friendship; to live, who would not choose, even of those who are not friends? Why then does he set it down as something great? Because it is very great. For many grieve with their friends when they fare badly, but when they are well thought of they no longer rejoice with them, but even envy them. “But not we; whether you are in calamities, we are not afraid to share your misfortune; or whether you fare well, we are not struck by envy.”

Then, since he kept turning these things over, saying, “You are not restricted in us,” and, “You are restricted in your own affections,” and, “Make room for us,” and, “Widen your hearts too,” and, “We have wronged no one,” and all these seemed to be a condemnation of them, see how he softens this heaviness in another way too, saying, “Great is my boldness toward you.” “That is why I dare such things,” he says, “not saying it to condemn, but because of my great boldness”; which he showed above too, saying, “Great is my boasting on your behalf.” “For do not think,” he says, “because I say these things, that I say them as having condemned you completely; for I greatly pride myself and boast about you; but I speak caring for you and wishing you to advance further in virtue”; which he said to the Hebrews too after much rebuke: “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, things that belong to salvation, though we speak thus. And we desire each of you to show the same earnestness for the full assurance of hope until the end.” So too here: “Great is my boasting on your behalf.” “We boast of you to others,” he says. Do you see how genuinely he consoled them? And he says not simply “I boast,” but “greatly.” He added at any rate, “[I am filled with comfort]”: [what comfort? That] from you, “because, corrected, you comforted me by your deeds.” This belongs to one who loves: both to accuse for not being loved, and to fear lest by accusing beyond measure he should grieve them. That is why he says, “in joy.” [2.] “But these things seem contrary to the first,” someone says. They are not; they agree closely. For these make those acceptable, and the praise through these makes the benefit from those rebukes more genuine, stealing away their painfulness. That is why he uses these words very genuinely and generously. For he did not say, “I am filled with joy,” but “I overflow,” showing his longing again from this too: that even if he is loved so much as to rejoice and exult, he does not yet think he is loved as he ought to be loved, nor that he has received everything; so insatiable was he through loving them greatly. For to be loved by those one loves in any way at all brings great joy, because one loves them greatly. So this again is a sign of his own love. And of comfort he says, “I am filled”—“you have [given back] what was owed me”—but of joy, [“I overflow”]: “[I was dejected about you, but you have made full amends and supplied comfort;] for you not only removed the cause of my grief, but made my joy greater.” Then, showing its greatness, he shows it not only by saying, “I overflow with joy,” but also by adding, “in all our affliction.” “For so great was the pleasure that came to us because of you, that it was not dimmed even by so great an affliction, but by the abundance of its own greatness overcame the painful things that had seized us, and did not let us perceive them.”

“For even when we came into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest.” For since he said “affliction,” he says what kind of affliction too, and magnifies it in words, so as to show that the consolation and joy from these things was great, since it beat off so much pain. “But we were afflicted in every way.” How in every way? “Fightings without,” from the unbelievers; “fears within,” for the weak among the faithful, lest they be swept away. For such things happened not only among the Corinthians but elsewhere too. “But God, who comforts the humble, comforted us by the coming of Titus.” For since he had borne them great witness, so as not to seem to flatter, he brings forward as witness Titus the brother, who came from them to Paul after the first letter, relating to him the story of their correction. And see how everywhere he makes much of Titus’s presence. For earlier he says, “When I came to Troas for the gospel, I had no rest in my spirit because I did not find Titus my brother”; and here again, “We were comforted by the coming of Titus,” he says. For he wishes to make the man trustworthy to them and a close friend. And see how he contrives both. By saying, “I had no rest in my spirit,” he shows the greatness of his virtue; and by saying that “in our affliction his coming was enough for consolation, and not only his coming but also the comfort with which he was comforted concerning you,” he makes the man dear to the Corinthians. For nothing so produces and cements friendship as saying something kind and sound about someone; which he testifies of Titus too, saying, “When he came he gave us wings with pleasure; such things did he report about you. That is why his coming gladdened us. For we were pleased not only by his coming, but also by the comfort with which he was comforted concerning you.” And how was he comforted? By your virtue, by your good deeds. That is why he adds, “telling us of your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me.” “These things gladdened him,” he says, “these comforted him.” Do you see how he shows Titus too to be their ardent lover, since he thinks their improvement his own comfort, and having come boasted to Paul as of his own goods? And see how warmly he reports these things: “your longing, your mourning, your zeal.” For it was likely that they were mourning and grieving that blessed Paul was so displeased, that he stayed away so long. That is why he did not say simply “tears,” but “mourning”; nor “desire,” but “longing”; nor “anger,” but “zeal,” and zeal again on his behalf, against the man who had committed sexual immorality, against the accusers. “For you were set on fire,” he means, “and boiled over when you received my letter.” For these reasons he overflows with joy, for these he is filled with comfort, that he touched them. It seems to me that these things are said not only to console them for the former words, but also to urge on those who had done these good deeds. For even if I think that some were liable to the former charges and unworthy of these praises, yet he does not divide them, but puts both praises and charges in common, leaving it to the conscience of the hearers to pick out what is their own. For so those charges became less burdensome, and these praises led to great zeal.

[3.] So now too those who are accused should be disposed: to lament and mourn, so to long for their teachers, so to seek them more than their fathers. For through fathers we live, but through teachers we live well. So must we bear the rebukes of fathers; so must the faithful grieve with their leaders over those who sin. For not everything lies with them, but with you too. For if the sinner sees that he was rebuked by the father but flattered by the brothers, he becomes more careless. But when the father rebukes, be angry with him too, either as caring for your brother or as sharing the father’s indignation; only show great earnestness, and mourn, not because he was rebuked, but because he sinned. But if I build and you pull down, what have we gained but labors? Or rather, your loss does not stop there; you bring punishment on yourself. For one who prevents a wound from being healed has no less punishment than the one who made it, but even more. For it is not the same to strike and to [keep] the stricken from [being healed]; for the latter certainly breeds death, the former not certainly. I have said these things to you so that you may be angry together with your rulers at what they are justly indignant at; so that when you see someone rebuked, you may all turn away from him more than the teacher does. Let the offender fear you more than the rulers. For if he fears only the teacher, he will quickly sin; but if he is surrounded by so many eyes, so many mouths, he will be in greater safety. For as, if we do not do this, we shall pay the utmost penalty, so if we do it, we shall share in the gain of the correction. Let us do so, then. And if someone says, “Be kind to your brother; this befits Christians,” let him learn that the one who is angry is the kind one, not the one who calls him back before the time and does not even let him perceive his offense. For who, tell me, has mercy on the sick man: the one who lays him on his bed and binds him and keeps him from unsuitable food and drink, or the one who lets him gorge on unmixed wine and bids him be free and do everything a healthy man should? Does not the latter, who seems to be kind, aggravate the disease, while the former corrects it? So we judge here too. For it belongs to kindness not to indulge the sick in everything, nor to flatter their monstrous desires. No one so loved the man at Corinth who committed sexual immorality as Paul, who ordered him to be delivered to Satan; no one so hated him as those who applauded and courted him; and the end showed it. For they puffed him up and made the inflammation greater; but Paul both checked him and did not leave off until he brought him to clean health. They added to the existing evil; he even tore up the original one. Let us too learn these laws of kindness. For if you see a horse rushing down a cliff, you throw on the bridle, and pull it back hard, and often whip it; and yet this is punishment, but this punishment is the mother of safety. Do so with sinners too: bind the offender until he has propitiated God; do not leave him loose, lest he be bound the more by God’s wrath. If I bind, God no longer binds; but if I do not bind, the unbreakable bonds await him. “For if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged.” Do not think such a thing a matter of cruelty and inhumanity, then, but of the utmost gentleness, the best medicine, and great care. “But they have paid a long enough penalty,” someone says. How long, tell me? A year, and two years, and three? But I do not seek a quantity of time, but correction of the soul. [Show] this, then, [whether they have been pierced with compunction, whether they have changed,] and the whole is done; so that if this is not present, there is no profit in the time. For we do not ask whether the wound was bound many times, but whether the binding did any good. If, then, it has helped even in a short time, let it be laid on no longer; but if it has done no good, let it be laid on even after ten years; and let this be the limit of release: the gain of the one bound. If we take care so of ourselves and of the rest, and look not to the glory and shame of men, but, considering the punishment and reproach there, and above all God’s being provoked, apply vigorously the medicines of repentance, we shall quickly come to clean health and 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. Amen.

“So even if I grieved you with my letter, [I do not regret it, though I did regret it].” He now defends himself for the letter, since it was safe to tend them now that the sin had been corrected, and shows the benefit of the thing. He did this earlier too, saying, “For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you, not to grieve you, but that you might know the love I have especially for you.” And he does it now too, establishing it at greater length. And he did not say, “Before I regretted it, but now I do not,” but how? “I do not regret it now, though I did regret it.” “Even if what I wrote,” he says, “was such as to exceed [due measure, so that I regretted it,] yet the great gain from it does not let me regret it.” He said this not as having rebuked them immoderately, but to increase their praises. “For you showed such correction,” he says, “that even if I happened to strike you so hard as to condemn myself, I now praise myself from the outcome.” For as with children, when they have received a painful treatment—say, a cutting or a burning or a bitter medicine—we then speak to them without fear, so Paul does too. “For I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. Now I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved to repentance.” … he states the cause too, setting down the usefulness of the letter, and defending himself wisely, saying, “though only for a while.” For the painful thing was short, but the benefit lasting. And the consistent thing would have been to say, “Though it grieved you for a while, it gladdened and helped you forever.” But he does not say this; before mentioning the gain, he passes again to their praises and to the proof of his own care, saying, “Now I rejoice, not because you were grieved”—“for what gain is it to me that you were grieved?”—“but because you were grieved to repentance,” because the grief had some gain. For a father too, when he sees his child being cut, rejoices not because he is in pain but because he is being corrected; so too Paul. And see how from the facts he transfers the whole achievement to them, and reckons the painful part to the letter, saying, “because it grieved you for a while,” but says that the usefulness from it is their own achievement. For he did not say, “Because the letter corrected you,” though it was so, but, “because you were grieved to repentance.” “For you were grieved in a godly way, so that you suffered loss through us in nothing.” Do you see his unspeakable understanding? “For if we had not done this,” he says, “we would have done you harm.” And he says the achievement is theirs, but the loss would have been his if he had kept silent. “For if [you were going to be helped] by the rebuke [and we had not given it, we would have harmed] you; and the harm would have been not only to you but to us too.” For as one who does not give the merchant what he needs for the voyage is himself the cause of the loss, so we too, if we had not given you the occasions of repentance, would have harmed you. Do you see that not rebuking sinners is a loss both to teacher and to disciple? “For godly grief produces a repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted.” “For this reason,” he says, “though I did regret it before I saw the fruit and how great the gain was, I do not regret it now.” For such is godly grief. And he now speaks wisely about it, showing that grief is not grievous everywhere, but when it is worldly. What is “worldly”? If you grieve for money, for glory, for one who has died, all those are worldly. That is why it works death. For one who grieves for glory envies, and is often compelled to perish; such grief as Cain felt, such as Esau. By worldly grief, then, he means that which is to the harm of those who grieve. For grief is useful only for sins; and this is plain from this. One who grieves over the loss of money does not undo the loss; one who grieves over the dead does not raise the one lying there; one who grieves over sickness not only is not set right, but aggravates the disease; but one who grieves over sins alone achieves something more by his grief, for he spends and blots out his sins. For since this medicine has been prepared for this, here only it has force and shows its benefit, but in other cases it even does harm. “And yet Cain,” someone says, “grieved because he was not approved by God.” Not for this, but because he saw his brother shining; since if he had been pained for this, he ought to have emulated him and rejoiced with him; but being pained, he showed that he grieved in a worldly way. But not so David, nor Peter, nor any of the righteous. That is why they were approved, grieving either over their own sins or over those of others. And yet what is more burdensome than grief? But when it is godly, it is better than the world’s joy. For that ends in nothing, but this works a repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted. For this is what is wonderful about it, that one who grieves so would never regret it; which above all belongs to worldly grief. For what is more desired than a true-born child? What more painful than such a death? Yet fathers who at the height of their mourning would bear nothing, and beat themselves, regret it after a while, since [they gained nothing,] but wore themselves out the more. But godly grief is not such; it has two advantages: one is not condemned for what one grieves over, and this grief ends in salvation; of both of which the other is deprived. For they grieve to their harm, and after grieving greatly they condemn themselves, bringing forward this greatest sign that they did it to their harm. But godly grief is the opposite. That is why he said, “It produces a repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted.” For no one will condemn himself if he grieves over sin, if he mourns and breaks himself.

Which blessed Paul having said, he does not need to bring the example of what he said from elsewhere, nor those in the [old histories who grieved], but brings forward the Corinthians themselves, and gives the proof from what they did, so as both to teach them with praise and to draw them more. “For see,” he says, “what earnestness this very thing, your being grieved in a godly way, has produced in you.” “For not only did the dejection not throw you into condemning yourselves as having done it idly, but it made you more earnest.” Then he states the signs of the earnestness. “What eagerness to clear yourselves”—toward me. “What indignation”—against the one who sinned. “What fear”—for so great earnestness and so swift a correction belonged to those who were greatly afraid. And so as not to seem to exalt himself, see how quickly he softened it, saying, “what longing”—for me; “what zeal”—[on God’s behalf; “what punishment!”—for you avenged] the laws of God that had been outraged. “In everything you proved [yourselves innocent in the matter],” not only by not daring it (for this was obvious), but also by not sharing its pleasure. For since in the first letter he said, “And you are puffed up,” here he says, “You have freed yourselves from this suspicion too, not only by not praising him, but by rebuking and being indignant.”

“So although I wrote to you, it was not for the sake of the one who did wrong, nor for the sake of the one who was wronged.” For so that they might not say, “Why then do you rebuke us, if we were innocent in the matter?” setting himself against this above too and preparing for it in advance, he said what he said: “I do not regret it, though I did regret it.” “For I am so far from repenting now of what I wrote then,” he says, “that I repented then rather than now, when you have commended yourselves.” Do you see again his force and his determination, how he turned the argument to the opposite? For from the very things from which they thought he had been distorted, as one who had rebuked idly, he shows from their progress that he has a right to speak boldly. For he no longer refuses to gratify them without fear, when it is possible to do so. For he who said above such things as, “He who is joined to a prostitute is one body,” and, “Deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh,” and, “Every sin that a man commits is outside the body,” and the like—how does he say here, “not for the sake of the one who did wrong, nor for the sake of the one who was wronged”? Not contradicting himself, but quite consistent. How consistent? Because it was very important to him to show the affection he had for them. So he does not do away with his care for that man, but shows also, as I said, his love for them, and that a greater fear shook him, for the whole church. For he feared lest the evil should spread further and, making its way, seize the whole church. That is why he said, “A little leaven leavens the whole lump.” But that was then; now, since they had done well, he no longer puts it so, but otherwise; he hints at the same thing, but handles the statement more sweetly, saying, “but so that your earnestness on our behalf might be made plain to you,” that is, so that you may know how I love you. This is the same as the former, but expressed differently it seemed to give another sense. For that it is the same, unfold its meaning and you will see no difference. “For since I love you greatly,” he says, “I feared lest you should suffer something unpleasant from that quarter, lest you yourselves should take on the grief.” As, then, when he says, “Is it for oxen that God cares?” he does not mean that he does not care (for nothing that exists can hold together apart from God’s providence), but that he did not legislate chiefly for the oxen, so here too: “I wrote first for your sake, and second for his too. And I had the love in myself even without the letter,” he says, “but I wished to show it to you and to all by that writing.” “Therefore [we have been comforted],” since we have both shown our earnestness for you and achieved everything. As he said elsewhere too, “For now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord”; and again, “For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting? Is it not you?” For this is life, this is comfort, this is consolation to a teacher with understanding: the progress of his disciples.

[4.] For nothing so shows the one who holds rule as affection for those he rules. For begetting alone does not make a father, but loving after begetting. And if where nature is there is such need of love, much more where grace is. So all the men of old shone. All [who were approved among the Hebrews were made known by this]. So Samuel was shown great, saying, “Far be it from me to sin against God by ceasing to pray for you”; so David, so Abraham, so Elijah, so each of the righteous, those in the New and those in the Old. For Moses too, for the sake of those he ruled, [gave up] such wealth and treasures, [choosing to suffer affliction with] the people of God; and before his appointment he was a leader of the people by his deeds. That is why that Hebrew spoke very foolishly to him: “Who made you a ruler and judge over us?” What are you saying? You see the deeds, and you doubt about the title? As if someone, seeing a physician cutting excellently and helping a diseased limb of the body, should say, “Who made you a physician and bade you cut?” “Art, my good man, and your disease.” So too his knowledge made Moses such. For ruling is an art, not only a dignity, and an art higher than all arts. For if the rule of those outside is an art and a science better than all, much more this one. For this rule is as much better than that as that is than the other arts; or rather much more. And if you will, let us examine this argument more exactly. There is the art of farming, of weaving, of building, which are very necessary and above all hold our life together. For the others serve these: smithing, carpentry, shepherding. But of these arts themselves the most necessary of all is farming, which God introduced first when he formed man. For it is possible to live without shoes and clothes, but impossible without farming. Such, they say, are the Hamaxobii, the nomads among the Scythians, and the naked wise men of the Indians. For these have left aside building and weaving and shoemaking, and need only farming. Be ashamed, you who need superfluous arts—cooks, confectioners, embroiderers, and countless others of the kind—in order to live; be ashamed, you who bring vain arts into life; be ashamed, you believers, before those barbarians who need no art. For God made nature very self-sufficient, from a few things. Yet I do not compel you or lay down a law to live so; but as Jacob asked. And what did he ask? “If the Lord gives me bread to eat and a garment to put on.” So Paul too commanded, saying, “Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.” First, then, is farming, second weaving, and third after it building; shoemaking is last of all. Among us at any rate there are many servants and farm laborers who live without shoes. These, then, are the useful and necessary arts. Come, then, let us compare them with the art of ruling. For this is why I brought forward the most important of all, so that when ruling appears better than these, its victory over the rest may be beyond dispute. How, then, shall we show it more necessary than all? Because without it there is no benefit in those. And if you will, leaving the others aside, let us bring into the midst the one higher and more important than all, [farming. For what is the benefit of the many hands of the laborers,] when they war with one another and plunder one another’s goods? For now the fear of the ruler restrains them and guards what they produce; but if you take this rule away, that labor is superfluous. And if one examines exactly, he will find another rule too, which is the mother and bond of this one. What is it? That by which each must master and rule himself, chastising the slavish passions, and nourishing and increasing all the shoots of virtue with all exactness. For there are kinds of rule: one, by which men rule peoples and cities, setting this political life in order, which Paul showed when he said, “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God”; then, showing its gain, he added, “The ruler is God’s minister for good”; and again, “He is God’s minister, an avenger for wrath on the one who does evil.” Another, by which each man with understanding rules himself; which he also indicated by saying, “Do you wish not to fear the authority? Do what is good,” meaning the man who rules himself.

But here there is another rule too, higher than political rule. What is it? That in the church; which Paul too mentions, saying, “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls, as men who will give account.” For this rule is as much better than political rule as heaven is than earth, or rather much more. For first, it does not chiefly consider how to punish sins once committed, but how they may not happen at all; then, when they have happened, not how to carry off the sick man, but how the sins may be blotted out. And it takes little account of worldly things, but does everything for the things in heaven. “For our citizenship is in heaven,” and our life is there: “For it is hidden,” he says, “with Christ in God.” And the prizes are there, and the races are for the crowns there. For this life is not ended after death, but then shines out the more. That is why those who hold this rule have been entrusted with greater honor not only than governors, but than those who wear diadems, since they shape men in greater things and for greater things. But neither the one who exercises political rule nor the one who exercises spiritual rule will be able to handle them well unless they first rule themselves as they should and keep the laws of both kinds of conduct with all exactness. For as the rule over the many is double, so is that by which each rules himself. And here again the spiritual is better than the political, as the argument has shown.

One may see some of the arts too imitating rule, and especially farming. For the cultivator is a kind of ruler of the plants, pruning and checking some, and increasing and tending others; just as the best of rulers punish and cut off the wicked and those who harm the majority, but advance the good and reasonable. That is why Scripture too [compares] rulers to vinedressers. For what if plants do not utter a voice, as those who suffer ill in cities do? Yet they show the injustice by their appearance, withering, crowded out by the wicked weeds. And as wickedness is punished by laws, so here too the badness of the soil and the poor stock and wildness of a plant are corrected by this art. For whatever is in human character we shall find here too, [roughness, weakness, timidity, rashness,] and instability; and some of them luxuriant with wealth to the harm of their neighbors, others poor and wronged; as when the hedges grow luxuriant and rise to the harm of the plants near them, when other trees, fruitless and wild, run up high and hinder the growth of those beneath them. And as rulers and kings have those who harm their rule and war against them, so too the cultivator has the attack of wild beasts, irregularity of weather, hail, rust, [heavy rains], droughts, and the like. These things happen so that you may look continually to hope in God. For the other arts are established by human effort too; but this one has the greater part in God’s inclination, and depends almost wholly on it; it needs rains from above, it needs the right blend of seasons, and before all his providence: “For neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but God who gives the growth.” There is death here too, and life, and birth pangs and births, as with men. For it is possible to be cut off, and to bear fruit, and to die, and for what has died to come to be again; where the earth too speaks to us variously and clearly of the resurrection. For when the root bears fruit, when the seed springs up, is not the thing a resurrection? And one would see great providence and wisdom of God set in this rule, if he went through it point by point. But what I wanted to say is that this rule concerns earth and plants, but ours concerns the healing of souls; and as great as the difference between plants and souls, so much better is ours than that. And the rulers of the present life are as much inferior to it as ruling the willing is better than ruling the unwilling. For this is rule by nature too. For there everything happens by fear and compulsion; but here it is an achievement of choice and will. And not only in this is it better than that, but in that it is not only rule but, as one might say, fatherhood; for it has a father’s gentleness, and commanding greater things it persuades. For the outside ruler says, “If you commit adultery, you die”; but this one threatens the greatest things even if you look with licentious eyes. For this court is august, and corrects the soul, not the body only.

As great, then, as the difference between soul and body, so far does this rule again stand apart from that. And the one sits as judge of things that are open, or rather not of all of them, but of those that are proven; and often he even betrays these; but this tribunal teaches those who enter it that the one who judges among us will bring everything naked and laid open into the midst, before the common theater of the world, and it is impossible to escape notice. So Christianity holds our life together much more than the laws from outside. For if trembling about hidden things makes a man safer than fearing only about open ones, and demanding an account even for lesser things rouses him to virtue more than punishing greater ones, it is plain that this rule above all binds our life together.

[6.] And if you will, let us look at the appointments of rulers too; for here too you will see a great difference. For one cannot receive this rule by giving money, but by having shown the best character; and the one appointed is led to this rule not as to human glory and his own ease, but as to labors and sweat and the benefit of the many. That is why he enjoys much help from above from the Spirit. There, rule goes no further than declaring what must be done; but here it adds the alliance from prayers and from grace too. Or rather, there there is no word at all about wisdom, nor does anyone sit teaching what the soul is, and what the world is, and what we shall be after this, and to what we shall go from here, and how we shall master virtue; but there is much talk about contracts and agreements and money, and no care for these things. But in the church one may see all the discourses made about these things; so that one might rightly call it everything: a court, a hospital, a school of wisdom, a training place for the soul, a gymnasium for the races that lead to heaven. And that it is the gentlest rule of all, though it demands greater exactness, is plain from this. The outside ruler, if he catches an adulterer, at once punishes him. And yet what is the gain? For this is not to remove the passion, but to send away the soul with its wound. But the ruler here, when he finds one, hastens not to punish him but to remove the passion. “For you do the same as if, when a disease attacked the head, you did not stop the disease but cut off the head; but I do not act so; I cut off the disease. I bar him from the mysteries and the sacred precincts; and when I have raised him up, freed from his wickedness and made better by repentance, I receive him back again.” “And how is it possible to remove adultery?” someone says. It is possible, very possible, when he comes under these laws. For the church is a spiritual bath, wiping away not the dirt of the body but the stain of the soul by the many ways of repentance. “If you let him go unpunished, you have made him worse; if you punish him, you have left him incurable; but I neither let him go unpunished, nor punish as you do, but I both exact the penalty fitting for me and set right what has been done.” Do you want to learn in another way too how you, baring swords and showing fire to sinners, do not achieve much healing, while I without these have led them by the hand to clean health? I need no arguments or words, but I bring forward land and sea, and human nature itself. Examine how human affairs stood before this tribunal sat, how none of the good things achieved now could ever be heard of even by name. For who dared death? Who despised money? Who disdained glory? Who, fleeing the tumults in the midst [of cities], embraced the mountains and the wilderness, the mother of wisdom? Where was the name of virginity ever heard? For all these things, and more than these, have been the achievement of this tribunal, the works of this rule. Knowing and learning these things, then, that from here comes all the benefit of life and the correction of the world, come often to the hearing of the divine words, and to the assemblies here, and to the prayers. For if you order yourselves so, you will be able, having shown a way of life worthy of heaven, to obtain the promised good things, by the grace and love for humankind, and so on.

"Therefore we have been comforted in your comfort; and we rejoiced the more exceedingly for the joy of Titus, because his spirit has been refreshed by you all" [2 Cor 7:13]. See again how he heightens their praises and shows his love. For having said, "I was glad that the letter accomplished so much," and, "you gained so much" ("For I rejoice," he says, "not that you were grieved, but that you were grieved to repentance" [2 Cor 7:9]), and having shown his own love (for he says, "Although I wrote to you, it was not for the sake of the one who did wrong, nor for the sake of the one who was wronged, but so that our earnestness for you might be made known to you" [2 Cor 7:12]), he now names another sign of their goodwill, which brings them great praise and shows the genuineness of their love: "For in your comfort we rejoiced the more exceedingly for the joy of Titus," he says. And yet surely this is not the part of one who loves them ardently, to rejoice more over that man than over them? Yes, it is, he says; for I was not so glad on his account as on yours. That is why he adds the reason too, saying, "Because his heart has been refreshed by you all." He did not say "he," but "his heart," that is, his love toward you. And how was it refreshed? "By you all." For this too is the greatest praise.

"For if I have boasted anything to him about you" [2 Cor 7:14]. Great is the praise when the teacher boasts; for he says, "I was not put to shame." Therefore I rejoiced, because you showed yourselves better and proved my words by your deeds. So that the honor to me is double: both that you made progress, and that I was not found to have fallen short of the truth. "But as we spoke all things to you in truth, so also our boasting before Titus has proved to be truth." Here he hints at something else as well: that just as we spoke everything to you with truth (for it is likely that he had also said many things in praise of Titus to them), so too what we said about you to Titus has proved true. "And his inward affection is more abundantly toward you" [2 Cor 7:15]. This now is the language of one commending him, as being exceedingly inflamed and bound to them. And he did not say "his love," but "his inward affection." Then, so as not to seem to flatter, he everywhere lays down the causes of the friendship, so that, as I said, he may both escape the charge of flattery and urge them on the more, turning the praise back upon them and showing that they themselves laid in him the beginning and ground of such great love. For having said, "His inward affection is more abundantly toward you," he added, "while he remembers the obedience of you all." This shows Titus too to be grateful toward his benefactors, if indeed he came back carrying them all in his soul, and remembers them continually, and has them on his lips and in his mind. And again he adorns the Corinthians the more, because they so won him over before sending him away. Then he speaks of their obedience too, heightening their zeal; that is why he adds these words: "how with fear and trembling you received him." Not with love only, but with intense honor as well. Do you see how he bears witness to a twofold virtue in them: that they both loved him as a father and showed love to him as a ruler, while their love did not slacken their fear? He said this above too: "What earnestness your being grieved in a godly way worked in you, yes, what fear, yes, what longing!" [2 Cor 7:11].

"I rejoice therefore that in everything I have confidence in you" [2 Cor 7:16]. Do you see that he rejoices more on their account? Because you nowhere put your teacher to shame, he says, nor do you appear unworthy of my testimony. So he did not rejoice so much for Titus, because he enjoyed so much honor, as for them, because they showed such good feeling. For so that it might not be thought that he rejoiced more because of Titus, see how here too he lays down the reason. As above he said, "For if I have boasted anything to him about you, I was not put to shame," so here too: "that in everything I have confidence in you." Whether I must rebuke, I do not fear that you will break away; whether I must boast, I am not afraid of being refuted; whether I must praise you as obedient, or as loving, or as having zeal, I have confidence in you. I told you to cut him off, and you cut him off; I told you to receive him, and you received him; I said that you were great and admirable people in the presence of Titus, and knew how to reverence teachers: you showed these things true by your deeds. And he did not learn these things so much from me as from you. At any rate he came back an ardent lover of you, since you showed more than my words.

"Moreover, brothers, we make known to you the grace of God which has been given in the churches of Macedonia" [2 Cor 8:1]. Having lifted them up with praises, he again turns to exhortation. For this is why he mingled praises with the rebuke: so that, coming down from rebuke to exhortation, he might not make his word hard to accept, but having first smoothed their hearing, might thus prepare the way for the exhortation. For he wishes to discourse about almsgiving; that is why he said beforehand, "I rejoice that in everything I have confidence in you," making them readier for this too from what they had already achieved. And he did not say at once, "Give alms, then"; but see his wisdom, how from far off and from a height he prepares the way for his word. "For we make known to you," he says, "the grace of God which has been given in the churches of Macedonia." So that they may not be puffed up, he calls the thing a grace; and by recounting the deeds of others, he makes these people more earnest through the praises of others. And he puts together two praises of the Macedonians, or rather three: that they bear trials nobly, that they know how to show mercy, and that they do so with understanding; for their possessions had been plundered. And he made this plain when he wrote to them: "For you became imitators," he says, "of the churches of God that are in Judea, because you too suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews" [1 Thess 2:14]. Hear what he said afterwards when writing to the Hebrews: "For you also accepted with joy the plundering of your possessions" [Heb 10:34]. He calls the thing a grace, not only to restrain them, but also to draw them on, and to make his word free from envy. That is also why he added the name "brothers," so as to cut off all jealousy; for he is about to praise those others beyond measure. Hear, then, the praises. Having said, "We make known to you the grace of God," he did not say, "which has been given in this city or that," but he praises the whole nation together, saying, "in the churches of Macedonia." Then he recounts the grace itself:

"That in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy" [2 Cor 8:2]. Do you see his wisdom? He first says, not what he wishes to say, but something else before it, so that he may not seem to do this deliberately, but to come to it from another line of thought. "In a great trial of affliction." This he also said when writing to the Macedonians themselves: "You became imitators of the Lord, having received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Spirit" [1 Thess 1:6]; and again, "From you the word of the Lord has sounded forth, not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith toward God has gone forth" [1 Thess 1:8]. And what is "in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy"? Both came to them beyond measure, he says, both the affliction and the joy. That is why the paradox was great, that so great an abundance of pleasure sprang up for them out of affliction. For the affliction not only did not bring forth grief, but became an occasion of gladness for them, and that though it was great. He said this to anoint them to be noble and unshaken in trials. For they were not simply afflicted, but in such a way as to become approved through their endurance; or rather, he does not say "through their endurance," but, what was more than endurance, "joy." And he does not say simply "joy," but "abundance of joy"; for great and unspeakable joy sprang up in them.

"And their deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality." Again, both of these beyond measure. For as great affliction bore great joy, and abundance of joy, so great poverty bore great riches of almsgiving. For he showed this by saying, "abounded to the riches of their liberality." For generosity is judged not by the measure of what is given, but by the intention of those who give. That is why he nowhere speaks of the riches of what was given, but of "the riches of their liberality." What he says is this: not only did poverty not hinder their bounty, but it even became the occasion for their abounding, just as affliction became the occasion of their gladness. For the poorer they were, the more generous they were, and the more readily they gave. That is why he greatly admires them, because out of such poverty they showed such generosity. For "their deep poverty," that is, their great and unspeakable poverty, showed their liberality. But he did not say "showed," but "abounded"; and he did not say "liberality," but "the riches of liberality," that is, a liberality equal to the greatness of their poverty, or rather, they showed a far greater weight of bounty. Then he explains this more clearly, saying, "For according to their ability, I bear witness" [2 Cor 8:3] (the witness is trustworthy), "and beyond their ability"; that is, it "abounded to the riches of their liberality." Or rather, he shows it not by this alone, but by all that follows as well. "Of their own accord," he says. See another excess. ... "Begging us." See a fifth. "And while they were in affliction and poverty." This is a sixth. Both a seventh and an eighth. Then, since this is what he most wants to establish among the Corinthians, giving with free choice, he dwells most on it, saying, "with much entreaty" [2 Cor 8:4], and, "begging us." We did not beg them, but they begged us. Begging us for what? "The grace and the fellowship of the ministry to the saints." Do you see how he again exalts the thing, calling it by honorable names? For since they were zealous for spiritual gifts, he names it a "grace," so that they may run to it; and again "fellowship," so that they may learn that they receive, and do not only give. "This, then, they urged upon us," he says, "that we would take on such a ministry." "And not as we had hoped" [2 Cor 8:5]. He says this both with regard to the amount and with regard to the afflictions. For we would not have hoped, he says, that being in such affliction and poverty they would both press us and entreat us so much.

And he made plain their care for the rest of their life as well, saying, "But they first gave themselves to the Lord, and to us by the will of God." For in all things they obeyed more than we expected; nor, because they showed mercy, did they neglect the other virtues, but first "gave themselves to the Lord." What is, "They gave themselves to the Lord"? They dedicated themselves, they proved approved in the faith, they showed great courage in their trials, their orderliness, their gentleness, their love, their readiness and zeal in all other good things. What is, "and to us"? They became obedient to us, they loved us, they obeyed, both fulfilling the laws of God and being bound to us by love. And consider how here too he shows the intensity, saying, "They gave themselves to the Lord." They did not obey God in some things and the world in others, but gave everything to him, and gave themselves wholly to God. For it was not that, because they showed mercy, they grew proud; but with humility, much obedience, much honor, much philosophy, so they performed their almsgiving too. And what is, "by the will of God"? Since he said, "They gave themselves to us," he means that they did not do even this in a human way toward us, but did this too according to the mind of God.

"So that we urged Titus that, as he had begun before, so he would also complete among you this grace as well" [2 Cor 8:6]. And what sort of sequence is this? A close one, very much connected with what went before. For since we saw them so ardent, he says, and fervent in everything, in trials, in almsgiving, in their love for us, in the purity of the rest of their life, we sent Titus, so that you too might be made equal to them. He did not say it so, but he made it plain. Consider the excess of his friendship. While we were being entreated and asked by them, he says, we were anxious about your affairs, lest you should fall short of them. That is why we sent Titus, so that, roused and reminded from this quarter too, you might emulate the Macedonians. For Titus happened to be there when this letter was being written. And he shows that Titus had made a beginning of this before Paul's urging: "as he had begun before," he says. That is why he speaks great praises of him: at the beginning, "I had no rest in my spirit, because I did not find Titus my brother" [2 Cor 2:13]; and here all that he has said, and this very thing too. For this too is no small praise, that he had begun beforehand; for this belongs to a warm and fervent soul. That is why he sent him, placing within them, through the presence of Titus, the strongest encouragement to give. That is why he also lifts him up with praises, wishing to bind the man more closely to the Corinthians. For this too is a great help in persuading, that the counselor be regarded with affection. And well, having mentioned almsgiving once, twice, and three times, he calls the thing a grace: now saying, "We make known to you the grace of God which has been given in the churches of Macedonia"; now, "of their own accord, with much entreaty begging us for the grace and the fellowship"; and again, "so that as he had begun before, so he would also complete among you this grace as well."

For it is a great good and a gift of God, which, when achieved, makes us like God himself as far as is possible; for this is above all what makes a human being. At any rate, someone giving the mark of a human being set down this: "For a man is a great thing, and a merciful man is precious" [Prov 20:6 LXX]. This grace is greater than raising the dead. For to feed Christ when he is hungry is far greater than to raise the dead in the name of Jesus: for here you do good to Christ, there he does good to you. And the reward lies in doing good, not in receiving good. For there, in the case of miracles, I mean, you are the one in debt to God; but in the case of almsgiving, you have God as your debtor. And it is almsgiving when it is done with readiness, when with bounty, when you do not think you are giving but receiving, when you give as one benefited, as one gaining and not losing; for otherwise it is not even a grace. For one who shows mercy to another ought to rejoice, not to be vexed. For how is it not absurd, if in relieving another's despondency you are despondent yourself? For you no longer allow it to be almsgiving. For if you are despondent because you freed another from despondency, you display a sign of the utmost cruelty and inhumanity; for it is better not to free him than to free him so. And why are you despondent at all, man? Lest your gold become less? If you have such a mind, do not give at all; if you are not confident that it is multiplied for you in heaven, do not offer it.

But you seek the repayment here. Why? Let almsgiving be almsgiving and not trade. Many, indeed, have received a return here as well; but they did not receive it in such a way as to have more on that account than those who received nothing here; rather, some of them received it as being weaker, since they were not much drawn by the things there. And just as greedy, ill-bred people, slaves of their belly, who are invited to a royal table and do not wait for the proper time, like little children spoil their own enjoyment by snatching beforehand and filling themselves with inferior food, so too these who seek and receive here lessen the reward there. Then, when you lend, you wish to get back the principal after a long time, and perhaps not even to get it back, so that the delay may make the interest greater; but here you demand it at once, and that though you are not going to be here, but there forever, and are not going to be judged here, but will give your account there? And if someone were building you houses where you were not going to stay, you would think the thing a loss; but now you wish to be rich here, from where you will often depart even before evening? Do you not know that we are living in a foreign land, as strangers and sojourners [Heb 11:13]? Do you not know that it is the lot of sojourners to be thrown out when they do not expect it or hope for it? This is what happens to us as well. For this very reason, whatever we build, we leave here. For the Master does not allow us to depart taking these things with us, whether we build houses, or buy fields, or slaves, or furniture, or anything else of the kind. And not only does he not let us depart taking them from here, but he does not even reckon you a reward; for he told you beforehand not to build or spend on what belongs to another, but on what is your own [Luke 16:12]. Why then, leaving what is yours, do you work and spend on what belongs to others, so as to lose both the labor and the reward and to suffer the utmost punishment? Do not, I beg you; but since we are sojourners by nature, let us become so by choice as well, so that there we may not become sojourners, dishonored and cast out. For if we wish to become citizens here, we shall be citizens neither here nor there; but if we remain sojourners, and live as it is fitting for sojourners to live, we shall receive the freedom of citizens both here and there. For the righteous man, even possessing nothing, will live here among the things of all men as among his own; and when he departs to heaven, he will see his eternal tents [Luke 16:9]. And here he will suffer nothing unpleasant (for no one will be able to make a stranger of the man who has the whole earth for his city), and having recovered his own fatherland, he will receive the true riches. So that we may gain both, then, the things here and the things there, let us use what we have as we ought. For so we shall be citizens of heaven and shall enjoy great boldness; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness, and so on.

"But as you abound in everything, in faith and word and knowledge and earnestness" [2 Cor 8:7]. See again how the exhortation comes with praises, and with greater praises. And he did not say, "that you may give," but, "that you may abound": in the faith of the spiritual gifts, in the word of wisdom, in the knowledge of doctrines, in all earnestness toward the rest of virtue, "and in this love of yours for us" which I spoke of before and of which I gave the proof, "see that you abound in this grace also." Do you see that this is why he began there, from those praises, so that, advancing step by step, he might draw them to the same earnestness in this too?

"I do not speak by way of command" [2 Cor 8:8]. See how continually he shows them kindness, how he avoids being burdensome, and is neither forceful nor compelling; or rather, his word has both qualities, it is not burdensome and it does not compel. For since he had exhorted them continually and had greatly praised the Macedonians, so that this might not seem to be compulsion, he says, "I do not speak by way of command, but through the earnestness of others, proving also the genuineness of your love." Not as though he doubted it (for that is not what he shows here), but making it approved, and displaying it, and establishing it more firmly. For this is why I say these things, he means, to rouse you to the same readiness; and I mention their zeal to stir up your own disposition. Then from this he arrived at another, greater point; for he passes over no manner of counsel, but moves every means and handles his word in every way. For he urged them on from the praises of others, saying, "We make known to you the grace of God which has been given in the churches of Macedonia," and from their own praises, "But as you abound in everything, in word and knowledge." For this can sting more sharply, when one is outdone by oneself than when one is outdone by others. Then at last he comes to the chief point and crown of his counsel:

"For you know the grace of our Lord, that though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, so that we through his poverty might become rich" [2 Cor 8:9]. For consider, he says, ponder and reckon up the grace of God, and do not run past it lightly, but take the measure of its greatness, how great and how vast it is, and you will spare nothing of your own. He emptied himself of glory, so that you might become rich, not through his riches, but through his poverty. If then you believe that poverty produces riches, think of your Master, and doubt no longer. For if he had not become poor, you would not have become rich. For this is the wonder, that poverty made riches rich. And by riches here he means the knowledge of godliness, the cleansing from sins, righteousness, sanctification, the countless good things he has granted us and will grant. And all these came to us through his poverty. What poverty? Through his taking flesh and becoming man, and suffering what he suffered. And yet he did not owe these things, while you owe them to him.

"And in this I give my opinion, for this is expedient for you" [2 Cor 8:10]. See how he again takes care not to be burdensome, and softens his word by these two things, by saying, "I give my opinion," and, "for your advantage." For I do not compel and force you, he says, nor demand it from the unwilling; nor do I say these things looking so much to the interest of those who receive as to your profit. Then at last he takes the example from themselves, and not from others: "who began before, not only to do but also to be willing, a year ago." See how he shows that they too came to this willingly and without being urged. For since he had borne this witness to the Thessalonians, that "of their own accord, with much entreaty," they took up almsgiving, he wishes to show this achievement in these people too. That is why he said, "not only to do but also to be willing"; and not "you began," but "you began before, a year ago." To these things, then, I exhort you, to which you had already roused yourselves with all readiness.

"But now complete the doing as well" [2 Cor 8:11]. He did not say, "do it," but, "put an end to it." "So that as there was the readiness to be willing, so there may also be the doing out of what you have": so that this good achievement may not stop at readiness, but may also receive the reward that comes from deeds. "For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have" [2 Cor 8:12]. See his unspeakable wisdom. Having shown those who did beyond their ability (the Thessalonians, I mean), and having praised them for it, and having said, "I bear witness to them that they gave even beyond their ability," since he exhorts these people only according to their ability, he left the example to do its own work; for he knew that it is not exhortation so much as emulation that rouses people to imitate their equals. That is why he says, "For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have." Do not be afraid, he says, because I said those things; for what I said was praise of their generosity; but God requires what is according to one's ability, and according to what one has, not according to what one does not have. For "acceptable" here means "is required." And he greatly softens them, being confident in this example, and draws them on all the more by giving them liberty. That is why he added, "For I do not mean that others should have relief and you affliction" [2 Cor 8:13].

And yet Christ praised the opposite in the case of the widow, because she emptied out her whole living and gave out of her want [Mark 12:44]. But since Paul was speaking to Corinthians, among whom he chose to go hungry ("For it would be better for me to die than that anyone should make my boasting void" [1 Cor 9:15]), he therefore uses a measured exhortation, praising those who gave beyond their ability, but not compelling these people to do so; not because he did not wish it, but because they were weaker. Otherwise, why does he praise those others, because "in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality," and because they gave beyond their ability? Is it not plain that he was leading these people too toward the same? So even if he seems to allow the lesser, he does this so that through it he may lead them up to the greater. Consider, at any rate, how by what follows too he establishes it without their noticing. For having said this, he added, "your abundance for their want" [2 Cor 8:14]. For he wishes to make the command light not only by what has been said, but by this as well. And not only from this, but also from the repayment he again makes it easier, and speaks of something greater than they deserve, saying, "so that there may be equality at the present time, and their abundance may be for your want." What does he mean? You abound in money; they abound in their way of life and in boldness toward God. Give them, then, of the money in which you abound and which they lack, so that you may receive of the boldness in which they are rich and you are lacking. See how without their noticing he has established giving beyond their ability and out of their want. For if you wish, he says, to receive from their abundance, give from your abundance; but if you wish to draw down the whole, you will give out of your want and beyond your ability. He does not say this, but leaves it to the reasoning of his hearers; he himself for the time being carries out his purpose and his measured exhortation, adding, as is plain to see: "so that there may be equality at the present time." How equality? When you and they exchange your abundances and fill up each other's wants. And what equality is this, to give spiritual things in return for fleshly ones? For here the superiority is great. How then does he call it equality? He means it either with respect to abounding and lacking, or that this takes place only in the present life. For this is why, having said "equality," he added, "at the present time." He said this both to humble the pride of the rich and to show that after our departure from here the spiritual will be in greater superiority. For here we all enjoy great equality of honor; but then there will be a great distinction and the utmost superiority, when the righteous shine brighter than the sun [Matt 13:43].

Then, since he had shown that they not only give but also receive greater things in return, he wishes to establish their readiness from another side too, showing that even if they did not share with others, they would have nothing more for gathering everything indoors. And he brings forward an ancient story, saying, "As it is written, He who gathered much had nothing over, and he who gathered little had no lack" [2 Cor 8:15; Exod 16:18]. This happened with the manna. For both those who gathered more and those who gathered less were found to have the same measure, since God in this way punished greed. He said this at once to frighten them by what happened then, and to persuade them never to grasp after more, nor to be grieved at having less. And one may see this happening even now, in the affairs of life, not only with the manna. For if we all fill one belly and live the same span of time, and clothe one body, neither will the rich man have more from his abundance, nor the poor man less from his poverty. Why then do you tremble at poverty? Why do you pursue wealth? "I am afraid," someone says, "that I may be forced to go to other people's doors and beg from my neighbor." And I continually hear many even praying for this and saying, "Do not let me ever come to need of men." And I laugh heartily when I hear this; for the fear is childish. For every day and in everything, so to speak, we stand in need of one another. So these words belong to a thoughtless and puffed-up soul that does not clearly discern the nature of things. Do you not see that we all need one another? The soldier needs the craftsman, the craftsman the merchant, the merchant the farmer, the slave the free man, the master the slave, the poor the rich, the rich the poor, the one who does no work the one who gives alms, the giver the receiver. For the one who receives alms fulfills the greatest need, greater than all. For if there were no poor, the greater part of our salvation would be overturned, since we would have nowhere to lay out our money. So even the poor man, who seems the most useless of all, is the most useful of all. And if to need another is shameful, it remains to die; for one who fears this cannot live. "But I cannot bear," he says, "a raised eyebrow." Why, while accusing another of arrogance, do you disgrace yourself by this charge? For it is itself arrogant to be unable to bear the puffing-up of a proud soul. And why do you fear these things that are worth nothing, tremble at them, and shudder at poverty because of them? For even if you are rich, you will stand in need of more people, and of more and meaner people. For the richer you are, the more you subject yourself to this curse.

So ignorant are you of what you pray for, asking for money so as to need nobody: as if someone who had gone out to sea, where there is need of sailors and a ship and countless tackle, were to pray to come into need of nothing at all. For if you wish to need very little, pray for poverty. For if you are poor, even if you need someone, you will need him only for bread or a garment; but if you are rich, you will have need on account of fields, and houses, and taxes, and rents, and rank, and security, and reputation, and of magistrates; and not only of these, but of those under them too, and of people in the city and in the country, and of merchants and shopkeepers. Do you see that these words belong to the utmost folly? For if it seems dreadful to you to need anyone, it is not at all possible to be rid of this; but if you wish to escape the crowd of business, you can: take refuge in the calm harbor of poverty and cut off the great crowd of affairs; and do not think this needing another anything shameful. For this is the work of the unspeakable wisdom of God. For if, when we need one another, not even the compulsion of need draws us together into friendship, if we were self-sufficient, would we not be untamed beasts? God, then, has made us subject to one another by force and necessity, and every day we come up against one another. And if he took away this bridle, who would readily love his neighbor's friendship? Let us not, then, think this shameful, nor pray against it, saying, "Do not let us come to need anyone"; but let us pray, saying, "When we come to need, do not let those who are able to help us turn away." It is not standing in need of others that is vulgar, but seizing what belongs to others. But as it is, we have never prayed about that, nor said, "Do not let me covet what belongs to others"; but to stand in need, this seems something to pray against. And yet Paul often stood in need and was not ashamed, but even prided himself on it and praised those who had ministered to him, saying, "For you sent once and again for my needs" [Phil 4:16]; and, "wages for your service" [2 Cor 11:8]. So to be ashamed of these things is not a mark of freedom, but of weakness and of a mean and senseless soul. For it pleases God that we should need one another. Do not, then, play the philosopher beyond measure.

"But I cannot bear," he says, "a man who is often entreated and does not yield." And how will God bear you, when you are entreated by him and do not obey, and entreated for your own advantage? "For we are ambassadors for Christ," he says, "as though God were entreating through us: be reconciled to God" [2 Cor 5:20]. "And yet I am his servant," he says. And what of that? When you, the servant, are drunk, while he, the Master, is hungry and does not even enjoy necessary food, what will the name of servitude do to protect you? This very thing will weigh on you the more, when you live in a house of three stories and he does not even have a decent roof; when you lie on soft couches and he has not even a pillow. "But I have given," he says. But you ought not to cease doing these things. For you will have a defense only when you have nothing, when you possess nothing; but as long as you have, even if you have given to ten thousand, while others remain hungry, you have no defense. And when you also lock up grain, and raise the price, and devise other strange ways of trading, what hope of salvation will you have after that? You were commanded to give freely to the hungry, but you do not give even at a fair price. He emptied himself of such great glory for your sake, but you do not think him worthy even of bread; your dog is stuffed while Christ wastes away with hunger; your house-slave bursts with surfeit while your Master and his lacks necessary food. And where are these the doings of friends? "Be reconciled to God"; for these are the doings of enemies, of men at war.

Let us be ashamed, then, at how many benefits we have received and how many we are to receive; and if a poor man comes begging, let us receive him with great goodwill, comforting him, raising him up with our words, so that we too may meet with the same both from God and from men. "For whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to them" [Matt 7:12]. This law has nothing vulgar, nothing burdensome. What you wish to receive, he says, do; the repayment is equal. And he did not say, "What you do not wish to suffer, do not do," but the greater thing. For that is abstaining from evil, but this is doing good, and that is included in this. And he did not say, "These things you too should wish," but, "do so to them." And what is the gain? "This is the law and the prophets." Do you wish to receive mercy? Then show mercy. Do you wish to obtain pardon? Then grant it. Do you wish not to be spoken ill of? Then do not speak ill. Do you desire to be praised? Then praise. Do you wish not to be defrauded? Then do not seize. Do you see how he showed that the good is natural, and that we need no laws from outside, nor teachers? For in what we wish to receive, or not to receive, from our neighbors, we legislate for ourselves. So that if you wish not to suffer a thing, yet do it, or wish to receive a thing, yet do not do it, you have become self-condemned, and from then on you enjoy no defense, as though you were ignorant and did not know what must be done. Therefore, I beg you, having set up this law within ourselves by ourselves, and reading these clear and concise letters, let us be toward our neighbors such as we wish them to be toward us, so that we may enjoy security in the present and obtain the good things to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

["But thanks be to God,] who put the same earnestness [for you into the heart of Titus"] [2 Cor 8:16]. Again he praises Titus. For since he has discussed almsgiving, he now speaks also of those who were to receive the money from them and carry it away. For this too contributed to this collection and to making the readiness of the contributors greater. For one who is confident about the stewards gives with greater bounty. And so that this might happen then too, hear how he commends those who came for this purpose, of whom Titus was first. That is why he says, "But thanks be to God who put the same earnestness into the heart of Titus." What is "the same"? The same that he had for the Thessalonians, or the same as mine. And consider his wisdom: showing that this is the work of God, he also gives thanks to the giver, so as to urge them on by this too. For if God roused him and sent him to you, God himself asks through him. Do not then think that what has happened is merely human. And how is it plain that God urged him on? "For he accepted our entreaty, but being more earnest, he went to you of his own accord" [2 Cor 8:17]. See how he shows Titus too fulfilling his own part, without needing others. And having spoken of the grace of God, he does not let the whole be God's, so that by this too he may draw them to greater love, saying that Titus went of his own accord: he seized on the matter, leapt at the treasure, counted your service his own gain, and because he loves you greatly he did not even need my entreaty; he was indeed entreated by me, yet he was not roused from that, but from himself and from the grace of God.

"And we have sent with him the brother whose praise is in the gospel" [2 Cor 8:18]. And who is this brother? Some say Luke, because of the history he wrote; others say Barnabas, for he calls the unwritten preaching too a gospel. And why does he not give their names, but makes Titus known by name and calls him from his partnership in the gospel (if indeed he was so useful that because of his absence Paul could not even do anything great and noble: "For I had no rest in my spirit, because I did not find Titus my brother" [2 Cor 2:13]), and from his love for them ("For his inward affection," he says, "is more abundantly toward you" [2 Cor 7:15]), and from his earnestness about the matter ("For of his own accord," he says, "he went"); while these he neither commends in the same way nor names? What then can one say? Perhaps the Corinthians did not know them; that is why he does not linger over their praises, since they had not yet had experience of them, but says only so much as served to commend them and to avoid evil suspicion. But let us see on what grounds he praises this man as well. On what grounds, then? First he praises him for his preaching, not only that he preached, but that he did so as he ought and with fitting earnestness. For he did not say that he preaches and evangelizes, but, "whose praise is in the gospel." And so as not to seem to flatter him, he brings forward not one or two or three men but whole churches bearing witness to him, saying, "throughout all the churches." Then he makes him worthy of respect from the judgment of those who appointed him as well; and this too is no small thing. For this reason, having said, "whose praise is in the gospel throughout all the churches," he added, "And not only so" [2 Cor 8:19]. What is "And not only so"? He is worthy of respect, he says, not only because he is well approved in preaching and praised by all, but also because "he was appointed by the churches" to travel with us. Hence he seems to me to hint at Barnabas. And he indicates his great dignity; for he shows also for what he had been appointed: "as our traveling companion," he says, "in this grace which is ministered by us." Do you see how many his praises are? He shone in preaching the gospel, and had all the churches bearing witness to him in this; he was appointed by us, and for the same things as Paul, and became his partner everywhere, both in trials and in dangers; for the word "traveling companion" hints at this. And what is "in this grace which is ministered by us"? So as to proclaim the word, he says, and preach the gospel; or so as to serve in the matter of the money as well; or rather, he seems to me to speak of both. Then he adds, "to the glory of the Lord himself, and to show your readiness." What he means is this: we thought it right, he says, that he should be appointed with us and put forward for this work, so as to become steward and minister of the sacred money (for this was no small thing: "Look out from among you seven men of good repute" [Acts 6:3]); and he was appointed by the churches, and there was a vote of the whole people. What is "to the glory of the Lord himself, and to show your readiness"? So that both God may be glorified and you may become readier, since those who receive this money are approved men, and no one can conceive any false suspicion against them. That is why we sought out such men, and did not entrust the whole to one alone, so as to avoid this suspicion too, but sent both Titus and another with him.

Then explaining this very phrase, "to the glory of the Lord and to show your readiness," he added, "avoiding this, that anyone should blame us in this abundance which is ministered by us" [2 Cor 8:20]. What is it he says? Something worthy of Paul's virtue, which shows his great solicitude and his condescension. So that no one may suspect us, he says, or have even the slightest ground of blame against us, as though we were embezzling from the money entrusted to us, for this reason we sent such men, and not one only, but two and three. Do you see how he frees them from all suspicion: not from the gospel, nor from their appointment only, but also from their being approved, and appointed for this very reason, that they might not be suspected? And he did not say, "lest you blame us," but, "lest anyone else." And yet he did this because of them, and he hinted it in saying, "to the glory of the Lord himself, and to show your readiness"; but nevertheless he does not wish to strike them, but says otherwise, "avoiding this"; and he is not content with this, but heals them again by what he adds, saying, "in this abundance which is ministered by us," setting down the heavy word together with praise. For so that they may not be pained or say, "Have you then cause to suspect us, and are we so wretched as to be suspected at all in these things?" he corrects it by saying: the money being sent by you is much, and this abundance, that is, the great quantity of money, is enough to give the wicked ground for suspicion, unless we [take forethought for what is honorable], "not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in the sight of men" [2 Cor 8:21]. What could equal Paul? For he did not say, "Let anyone who wishes to suspect such a thing perish and lament; as long as my conscience does not condemn me, I take no account of those who suspect"; but the weaker they were, the more he condescended. For one ought not to be indignant with the sick, but to help them. And yet from what sin are we as far as he was from such a suspicion? Not even a demon would have suspected that blessed man in this ministry. But nevertheless, though so far removed from evil suspicion, he does and contrives everything so as to leave not even a shadow to those who wished to suspect anything evil in any way; and he flees not only accusations, but blame and the slightest censure and bare suspicion.

"And we have sent with them our brother" [2 Cor 8:22]. See, again he adds another, and this one too with praise, and with his own vote and that of many other witnesses. "Whom we have often tested in many things," he says, "and found earnest, but now much more earnest." Having praised him from his own achievements, he lifts him up from his love for them as well; and what he said of Titus, that "being more earnest he went of his own accord," he says of this man too: "but now much more earnest," laying down beforehand for them the seeds of love toward the Corinthians. And now, since he has displayed their virtue, he entreats the Corinthians too on their behalf, saying, "As for Titus, he is my partner and fellow worker toward you" [2 Cor 8:23]. What is "As for Titus"? If anything must be said about Titus, he says, this is what I have to say: that he is my partner and fellow worker toward you. For either he says this, or, "If you do anything for Titus, you will not be doing it for an ordinary person; for he is my partner." And while seeming to praise him, he exalts them, showing them so disposed toward himself that it is enough to give anyone a claim to honor among them that he appears as his partner. But nevertheless he was not content with this, but added something else, saying, "fellow worker toward you": not simply a fellow worker, but in your affairs, in your progress, in your advance, in your friendship, in his earnestness about you; which more than anything could bind him to them.

"Or our brothers." Or if you wish to hear anything about the others, he says, these too have the strongest claims to be commended to you. For they too, he says, are "our brothers, and apostles of the churches," that is, sent by churches. Then the greatest of all: "the glory of Christ." For whatever is done for them is referred to him. Whether, then, you wish to receive them as brothers, or as apostles of the churches, or as doing it for the glory of Christ, you have many grounds for goodwill toward them. For of Titus I can say that he is both my partner and your lover; of these, that they are brothers, that they are apostles of churches, that they are the glory of Christ. Do you see that it is plain from this too that they were among those unknown to them? For he would have adorned them too with the same praise as Titus, I mean their love for the Corinthians. But since they were not yet known, he says, "Receive them as brothers, as apostles of the churches, as doing it for the glory of Christ." That is why he adds: "Show them, therefore, in the face of the churches, the proof of your love and of our boasting about you" [2 Cor 8:24]. Show now, he says, how you love us, and how we do not boast in you idly or at random; and you will show this if you show love to them. Then he makes his word more awe-inspiring, saying, "in the face of the churches." To the glory of the churches, he says, you have honored them, to the churches. For the honor passes not only to them, but also to those who sent them, who appointed them, and before them, to the glory of God. For when we honor those who minister to him, the praise passes to him.

"In the face of the churches." This too is no small thing; for great is the power of the assembly, that is, of the churches. Consider how great the power of the assembly was. The prayer of the church loosed Peter from his chains [Acts 12:5] and opened the mouth of Paul [Eph 6:19]; their vote, and not lightly, adorns those who come to spiritual offices. For this reason the one who is about to ordain also calls for their prayers at that time, and they add their vote and cry out what the initiated know; for it is not lawful to uncover everything before the uninitiated. And there are times when the priest does not differ at all from the one under his rule: for instance, when we are to partake of the awesome mysteries; for we are all alike counted worthy of the same things. It is not as in the Old Covenant, when the priest ate some things and the one under rule others, and it was not lawful for the people to partake of what the priest partook of. But not now; rather, one body is set before all, and one cup. And in the prayers too one may see the people contributing much. For on behalf of the possessed and on behalf of those in penance, the prayers are made in common both by the priest and by them, and all say one prayer, a prayer full of mercy. Again, when we have shut out from the sacred precincts those who cannot partake of the holy table, another prayer must be made, and all alike lie on the ground, and all alike rise up; and when we must give and receive peace, we all alike embrace one another. Again, at the most awesome mysteries themselves, the priest prays for the people, and the people pray for the priest; for "And with your spirit" means nothing else than this. The thanksgiving again is common; for he does not give thanks alone, but the whole people too. For having first taken their voice, then, when they assent that it is "fitting and right" to do this, he then begins the thanksgiving. And why do you wonder if the people somewhere speak with the priest, when indeed they send up those sacred hymns in common even with the cherubim themselves and the powers above? Now I have said all this so that each one of those under rule may be sober as well, so that we may learn that we are all one body, having as much difference from one another as member from member; and so that we may not cast everything upon the priests, but may ourselves too care for the whole church as for a common body. For this secures both greater safety and greater progress in virtue for us.

Hear, at any rate, how in the time of the apostles they took those under their rule as partners in their counsel in other places too. For when they appointed the seven, they first consulted the people [Acts 6:2–6]; and when Peter appointed Matthias, he consulted all who were present then, both men and women [Acts 1:15–26]. For here there is no pride of rulers nor servility of the ruled, but a spiritual rule, whose preeminence lies above all in taking on the greater share of labors and of care for you, not in seeking greater honors. For the church ought to dwell as one house; all ought to be disposed as one body; just as there is one baptism, and one table, and one fountain, and one creation, and one Father. Why then are we divided, when so many things bring us together? Why are we torn apart? For we are forced again to lament the same things I have often mourned. The present state of things deserves grief: so greatly are we torn away from one another, when we ought to imitate the unity of one body. For so the greater will be able to gain even from the lesser. For if Moses learned something useful from his father-in-law which he himself had not perceived [Exod 18:13–24], much more could this happen in the church. And why did the unbeliever perceive what the spiritual man did not perceive? So that all the people of that time might learn that he was a man, and that even if he divides the sea, even if he splits the rock, he needs the help of God; and that those deeds were not of human nature, but of the power of God. And now, if so-and-so does not say what is useful, let another stand up and say it. Even if he is of lower rank, if he says something useful, confirm his opinion; even if he is among the very lowest, do not despise him. For none of these is as far from his neighbors as Moses's father-in-law was from Moses; yet Moses did not disdain to listen, but accepted the advice, was persuaded, had it written down, and was not ashamed to hand these things down in the history, pulling down the pride of the many. That is why he wrote it and left it to life as on a pillar; for he knew the story would be useful to many. Let us not, then, overlook those who give the counsel that is needed, even if one is among the ruled, even if among the lowly; and let us not insist that whatever we ourselves propose must by all means prevail, but whatever appears useful, let that be confirmed by all. For many with dim sight have perceived many things better than the sharp-sighted, because of their earnestness and their attention. And do not say, "Why do you call me to counsel, if you do not listen to what I say?" These complaints are not those of a counselor, but of a tyrant. For a counselor is entitled only to say what he thinks; but if something else appears more profitable and he wants his own view to be acted on, he is no longer a counselor but a tyrant, as I said. Let us not do so, then, but freeing the soul from all pride and arrogance, let us consider not only how our own views may stand, but how the useful opinion may prevail, even if it is not brought forward by us. For we shall gain no small thing, even if we do not find what is needed, by accepting what has been brought to light by others; and we shall receive a great reward from God, and so above all we shall enjoy glory as well. For as the one who said what was useful is wise, so we, by accepting it, shall also reap the praise of understanding and good sense. So houses and cities, so the church too when it is governed thus, will receive greater increase; so we too, having governed the present life well, shall obtain the good things to come; which may we all attain, and so on, by the grace and lovingkindness.

["For concerning the ministry to the saints, it is superfluous for me to write to you"] [2 Cor 9:1]. Having said so much about it, here he says, "It is superfluous for me to write to you." And his wisdom lies not only in saying, after saying so much, "It is superfluous for me to write to you," but in speaking about it again. For what he said a little before, he said about those who received the money, so that they might enjoy great honor; and what came before that, what he discussed about the Macedonians, that "their deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality," and all the rest, was about kindness and almsgiving. But nevertheless, having said so much before and being about to speak again, he says, "It is superfluous for me to write to you." And he does this so as to draw them on the more. For a man who has such a reputation as not even to need counsel is ashamed to appear below his repute and to fall short. So too in accusation he often does this, speaking by passing over; for it has great force. For the judge, seeing the magnanimity of the accuser, no longer even suspects him. For he reasons: how would one who could say much and did not say it invent what is not? And he gives room to suspect more than he says, and wraps himself in the reputation of a good character. He does this in counsel and in praise as well. For having said, "It is superfluous to write," see how he counsels: "For I know your readiness, of which I boast about you to the Macedonians" [2 Cor 9:2]. It is a great thing that he himself knows it; but much more, that he has published it to others; for this has greater force, for they would not wish to be put to such shame. Do you see the wisdom of his purpose? He urged them on from others, the Macedonians: "For we make known to you," he says, "the grace of God which has been given in the churches of Macedonia." He urged them from themselves: "For you," he says, "began before, not only to do but also to be willing, a year ago." He urged them from the Lord: "For you know," he says, "the grace of our Lord, that for our sakes he became poor, though he was rich." Again he flies to the strong point, that drawn from others. For the human race is jealous. And the Lord's example ought rather to have drawn them, and after that the repayment; but since they were weaker, he draws them more by this. For nothing works so much as emulation. And consider how he introduces it in a newer way. For he did not say, "Imitate these people"; but what? "Your zeal has stirred up very many." What are you saying? A little before you said that they came of their own accord, "with much entreaty begging us"; how then "your zeal"? Yes, he says: we did not counsel, we did not entreat, we only praised you, we only boasted, and this was enough to urge them on. Do you see how he rouses them through one another, these through those and those through these, and has mingled the greatest praise with the emulation? Then, so as not to puff them up, he proceeds with restraint, saying, "Your zeal has stirred up very many." Consider, then, how great a thing it would be, after becoming the cause of this generosity to others, to fall short yourselves in this contribution. That is why he did not say, "Imitate them" (for that would not have had so much emulation), but how? They imitated you: do not you, the teachers, show yourselves inferior to the disciples. And see how, rousing and inflaming them the more, he pretends to stand with them, as if in some contest and rivalry he were taking their side. For as above he said that "of their own accord, with much entreaty, they came to us," so that "we urged Titus that, as he had begun before, so he would also complete this grace," so here too he says, "But I have sent the brothers, so that our boasting about you may not be made empty" [2 Cor 9:3]. Do you see him anxious and trembling, so that he may not seem to have said what he said only for the sake of urging them? But, "Because it is so," he says, "I sent the brothers"; I take such pains for you "so that our boasting may not be made empty." And throughout he seems to make himself one of the Corinthians' side, though he cares for all alike. What he says is this: I pride myself greatly on you ... so that if you fall short, the shame is shared. And this too in measure; for he added, "in this respect," not everywhere; "so that, as I said, you may be prepared." For I did not say that they are going to be, but that everything has been made ready and nothing is now lacking to them. This, then, I wish to be shown by deeds, he says. Then he heightens the anxiety too, saying, "Lest perhaps, if Macedonians come with me and find you unprepared, we (not to say you) should be put to shame" [2 Cor 9:4].

The shame is greater when he sets many spectators over them, the very people who have heard. And he did not say, "For I am bringing Macedonians with me," or "Macedonians are coming with me," so as not to seem to do it on purpose; but how? "Lest perhaps, if Macedonians come with me": for this may happen, he says; it is among the things that are possible. For so he made his word free from suspicion; but if he had spoken in that other way, he would even have made them more contentious. See how he leads them on not only from spiritual motives, but also from human ones. For even if you make nothing great of me, he says, and are confident because I would forgive you, at least think of the Macedonians: "lest perhaps, if they come and find you"; and he did not say "unwilling," but "unprepared," not yet having filled up the whole. And if this is shameful, not to bring it quickly, think how shameful it is not to bring it at all, or to bring less than is fitting. Then he sets down what would follow from this mildly and yet with a blow, saying, "we (not to say you) should be put to shame." And again he restrains it, saying, "in this confident boasting," not making them more careless, but showing that those who are well approved in other things ought to have great boldness in this too.

"Therefore I thought it necessary to urge the brothers to go on before to you and arrange in advance this blessing of yours, so that it may be ready as a blessing and not as covetousness" [2 Cor 9:5]. Again he takes up the same thing in another way; and so as not to seem to say these things idly, he says the reason for the journey is none other than that they may not be put to shame. Do you see that "It is superfluous for me to write to you" was the beginning of counsel? Do you see, then, how much he discourses about this ministry? And besides this one may say that, so as not to seem to contradict himself, having called it superfluous and yet discussing it, he establishes that point too through these words, in addition to discoursing about speed, and bounty, and readiness. For he demands these three things, and he touched these heads at the beginning too. For when he says, "In a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality," he says nothing else than that they contributed much, and with joy, and with speed, and that not only did the giving not grieve them much, but not even being in trials did, which is more burdensome than giving. And "they gave themselves to us" shows both their readiness and their great trust. And here again he handles the same things. For since these are opposed, generosity and readiness, and the one who gives much is often despondent, while the one who, so as not to be pained, gives less, see how he cares for both, and with the wisdom proper to him. For he did not say, "It is better to give a little and with free choice than much under compulsion," since he wished them to contribute both much and with free choice; but how? "That they may arrange in advance your blessing, so that it may be ready as a blessing, not as covetousness." He begins first with the sweeter and lighter point, not under compulsion: for it is a "blessing," he says. See how, in the very order of his exhortation, he at once shows the fruit sprouting and those who give filled with blessing. And by the name he drew them on; for no one gives a blessing with grief. And he was not content with this, but added, "not as covetousness." Do not think, he says, that we take it as men grasping for gain, but so as to become the cause of blessing to you. For covetousness belongs to the unwilling; so that one who gives alms unwillingly gives covetousness. Then from this he passed again to that other point, giving generously.

"But this I say" [2 Cor 9:6]. That is, along with this I say that as well. What? That "he who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and he who sows with blessings will also reap with blessings." And he did not say "meanly," but put the name of the sparing man, which is more euphemistic. And he called the thing a sowing, so that you may at once look to the return, and, thinking of the harvest, learn that you receive more than you give. That is why he did not say "he who gives," but "he who sows"; and he did not say "if you sow," but makes the saying general. Nor did he say "bountifully," but "with blessings," which was much greater than that. And again he flies back to the earlier, sweeter point, saying, "Each one as he has purposed in his heart" [2 Cor 9:7]. For one does more when given liberty than when compelled. That is why he dwells on this too; for having said "as he has purposed," he added, "not grudgingly or under compulsion." And he was not content with this, but adds the testimony of Scripture as well, saying, "For God loves a cheerful giver" [Prov 22:8 LXX]. Do you see how continually he sets this down? "I do not speak by way of command"; and, "In this I give my opinion"; and, "as a blessing and not as covetousness"; and again, "not grudgingly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." Here I think "cheerful" means "bountiful"; but he himself took it in the sense of giving with readiness. For since the example of the Macedonians and everything else was enough to produce lavishness, he does not say much about it, but about not giving unwillingly. For if it is a work of virtue, and everything done from compulsion cuts off the reward, he rightly works at this. And he not only counsels but also prays, as he always does, saying, "And God is able to make all grace abound to you" [2 Cor 9:8].

By the prayer he removes a thought that lurks beneath this generosity, which hinders many even now. For many are afraid to give alms, saying, "Lest perhaps I become poor, lest perhaps I need others." To dissolve this fear, then, he adds the prayer, saying, "to make all grace abound to you." Not simply "fill," but "abound." And what is "to make grace abound"? To fill you, he says, with so much that you can abound in this generosity. "So that, always having all sufficiency in everything, you may abound to every good work." See the great philosophy even in his prayer. He does not pray for wealth or abundance, but for "all sufficiency." And not only is this admirable in him, but that, just as he did not pray for superfluity, so he does not press them nor compel them to give out of their want, condescending to their weakness, but asks for sufficiency, and shows at the same time that the gifts of God must not be misused. "So that you may abound," he says, "to every good work." This is why I ask these things, he says, so that you may supply others as well. And he did not say "supply," but "abound." For in fleshly things he asks sufficiency for them, but in spiritual things abundance as well, not in almsgiving only, but in all other things too; for this is what "to every good work" means. Then he brings the prophet to them as a counselor, seeking a testimony that calls them to bounty, and says, "As it is written, He has scattered, he has given to the poor; his righteousness remains forever" [2 Cor 9:9; Ps 112:9]. This is "that you may abound." For "he has scattered" signifies nothing else than giving with bounty. For even if the things themselves do not remain, what comes of them remains. And this is the wonder, that when kept they are lost, but when scattered they remain, and remain forever. And by "righteousness" here he means kindness; for it makes men righteous, consuming sins like fire, when it is poured out with bounty.

Let us not, then, be exact in reckoning, but let us sow with a full hand. Do you not see how much others give to mimes and to prostitutes? Give Christ even half of what they give to dancers; as much as they give in their vanity to those on the stage, give that much at least to the hungry. For they clothe the bodies of courtesans with unspeakable gold, but you do not clothe the flesh of Christ even with a plain garment, and that though you see it naked. What pardon does this deserve, or rather, what punishment does it not deserve, when that man supplies so much to the woman who destroys and disgraces him, while you give not even the least to the one who saves you and makes you more glorious? But when you spend on the belly and drunkenness and profligacy, you never remember poverty; but if you must relieve poverty, you become poorer than anyone; and in feeding parasites and flatterers you rejoice, spending as from fountains; but if you see a poor man somewhere, then the fear of poverty seizes you. For this reason we shall be condemned then both by ourselves and by others, both by those who have done well and by those who have failed. For he will say to you: "Why were you not so magnanimous in the things that were fitting?" That man, giving to a prostitute, reckoned none of these things; but you, giving to the Master, who told you not to be anxious [Matt 6:25], are full of fear and trembling? And what pardon would you deserve? For if a man who has received will not overlook you, but will repay the favor, much more will Christ. For he who gives even without receiving, how will he not give after receiving?

"What then," someone says, "when some, having spent much, not only receive nothing back but even need others?" You speak of those who have spent everything, though you yourself do not give even an obol. Promise to empty out everything, and then ask about them; but as long as you are sparing and give little out of what you have, why do you put forward excuses? For we are not leading you to the highest peak of having nothing, but for the present we ask you to cut off superfluities and to love sufficiency alone. And sufficiency is defined by the need of those things without which it is not possible to live. No one drags you away from these, nor forbids your daily food: food, I say, not luxury; coverings, not ornaments. Or rather, if one examines it carefully, this is luxury above all. For consider: whom shall we say lives in luxury more, the man who feeds on vegetables and is healthy and suffers nothing unpleasant, or the man who has a Sybaritic table and is full of countless diseases? Plainly the former. Let us then seek nothing more than this, if we wish both to live in luxury and to live in health. And let the one who can be content with this and be healthy seek nothing besides; but let the weaker one, who needs to be cared for by more than vegetables, not be forbidden. And if anyone is weaker still and needs the moderate help that comes from meat, we shall not keep him from this either. For we do not give this counsel in order to kill and destroy people, but in order to cut off superfluities; and superfluous is whatever is more than need. For when we can live healthily and decently even without something, that thing when added is certainly superfluous.

Let us reason so about clothes too, and the table, and the house, and all other things; and let us seek need everywhere. For the superfluous is also useless. When you have practised sufficiency, then, if you wish to become an emulator of the widow, we shall lead you to greater things than these. For you have not yet attained to that woman's philosophy as long as you are concerned about sufficiency. For she went even above this; for what was to support her, all this she cast in. Will you still be in doubt about necessities, and are you not ashamed to be outdone by a woman, and not only not to emulate her, but to fall far behind her? For she did not say what is said by you: "What if, having spent everything, I need another?" but generously stripped herself of what she had. What would one say about the widow in the Old Testament, in the time of the prophet Elijah [1 Kgs 17:8–16]? For her the danger was no longer about poverty, but about death and dying, not her own only, but her children's as well. For she did not expect to receive from others, but to die at once. "But she saw the prophet," someone says, "and that is why she became generous." And do you not see countless saints? And why do I say saints? You see the Master of the prophets begging, and not even so do you become kind; but having storehouses that belch forth from this side to that, you do not share even out of your abundance. What do you say? Was it because a prophet was present that she was persuaded to such magnanimity? This very thing deserves great wonder, that she was persuaded that he was great and wonderful. For how did she not say, as a barbarian and foreign woman would be likely to reason, "If he were a prophet, he would not have needed me; if he were God's friend, God would not have overlooked him. Granted, the Jews are paying this penalty for their sins; but this man, from where and why?" But she thought none of these things, but opened her house to him, and before her house her mind, and set all she had before him, and, letting nature go and disregarding her children, honored the stranger above all. Consider, then, what punishment awaits us, when we bring less than a woman, a widow, poor, foreign, a barbarian, a mother of children, who knew none of the things we know, and when we are weaker. For it is not because we have a strong body that we are brave. For he alone has this virtue, even if he lies on a bed, who has strength from within; for without it, even if someone pulls up a mountain by the strength of his body, I would not say he is any stronger than a little girl or a wretched old woman. For the one wrestles with bodiless evils, while the other does not even dare to look them in the face. And so that you may learn that this is the definition of courage, gather it from this very example. For what could be braver than this woman, who stood nobly against the tyranny of nature, the violence of famine, and the threat of death, and became stronger than all? Hear, at any rate, how Christ proclaims her: "For there were many widows," he says, "in the days of Elijah, and to none of them was the prophet sent, but only to that one" [Luke 4:25–26]. Shall I say something great and paradoxical? This woman contributed more to hospitality than our father Abraham. For she did not run to the herd as he did [Gen 18:7], but by that handful she surpassed all who are famed for hospitality. For he excelled because he devoted himself to this; but she, because she did not spare even her children for the stranger's sake, and that without expecting the things to come. But we, though there is a kingdom, though hell is threatened, and, greatest of all, though God has done so much for us, [hang back.] Not so, I beg you; rather, let us scatter, let us give to the poor as we ought to give. For God measures much and little not by the amount of what is given, but by the means of the giver's substance. Often, at any rate, you who cast in a hundred [gave less] than the one who cast in only one copper coin; for you gave out of abundance. Yet even so, do this, and you will soon come to greater bounty as well. Scatter money, so that you may gather righteousness. For righteousness does not wish to come together with money, but through money, not with it, [it] stands beside us. For the desire of money and righteousness cannot dwell together; for they have separate tents. Do not strive, then, to bring together what cannot be mixed, but drive out the tyrant, love of money, if you wish to obtain the queen. For she is the queen, who makes free men out of slaves; the other does the opposite. Therefore let us flee the one with all earnestness and embrace the other, so that we may both obtain freedom here and attain the kingdom of heaven; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

"Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed, and increase the fruits of your righteousness" [2 Cor 9:10]. One might especially admire Paul's wisdom here, that having urged them on from spiritual motives and from fleshly ones, he does the same again in the repayment, setting down rewards of both kinds. "He has scattered, he has given to the poor; his righteousness remains forever" belongs to the spiritual reward; but "multiply your seed" to the fleshly repayment. Yet he does not stop here, but passes again to spiritual things, continually setting them side by side; for "increase the fruits of your righteousness" is spiritual. And he does this tearing up by the roots the sluggish reasoning, and dissolving the fear of poverty from many sides, and also from this present example. For if God gives to those who sow the earth, if he supplies plenty to those who feed the body, much more to those who cultivate heaven, who take care of the soul; for he wishes these things to enjoy his providence more. But he does not set it down as a syllogism, nor in that way, as I said, but in the form of a prayer, at once making the reasoning plain and leading them more to hope, not only from what happens, but also from this prayer. "May he supply," he says, "and multiply your seed, and increase the fruits of your righteousness." Here again he hints at bounty without arousing suspicion; for "multiply and increase" is the language of one who indicates this. And at the same time he leaves them no need to seek more than necessities, saying "bread for food." For this too is above all admirable in him, as he established earlier as well: that in necessities he lets them seek nothing more than need, but in spiritual things he counsels great abundance. That is why he said above, "so that, having sufficiency, you may abound to every good work"; and here, "he who supplies bread for food ... multiply your seed," that is, the spiritual seed. For he does not ask simply for almsgiving, but for almsgiving with bounty. That is why he continually calls it seed. [For as seed sown in the ground] shows fields of grain, so almsgiving produces many sheaves of righteousness and shows unspeakable fruits.

Having prayed for such great plenty for them, he shows again where it must be spent, saying, "being enriched in everything for all liberality, which produces through us thanksgiving to God" [2 Cor 9:11]. Not so that you may spend it on what is not needful, but on those things which bring much thanksgiving to God. For God has made us masters of great things; and leaving the lesser to himself, has he not yielded the greater to us? For he himself is master of the food we perceive by the senses, but the food of the mind he has entrusted to us; for we are masters of showing our fields abounding. For this needs no rains nor temperate seasons, but only free choice, and it runs up to heaven itself. And here he calls bounty "liberality," "which produces through us thanksgiving to God." For what is done is not almsgiving only, but the occasion of much thanksgiving; or rather, not of thanksgiving only, but of many other things too. And he sets these down as he goes on, so that by showing how many are the achievements, he may make them readier. What, then, are these many things? Hear him saying, "For the ministry of this service not only supplies the wants of the saints, but also abounds through many thanksgivings to God; while, through the proof of this ministry, they glorify God for the obedience of your confession to the gospel, and for the liberality of your fellowship with them and with all; and by their prayer for you, as they long for you because of the surpassing grace of God in you" [2 Cor 9:12–14]. What he says is this: first, you not only fill up the wants of the saints, but you abound, that is, you supply them with more than they need; then through them you send up praise to God; for they glorify him for the obedience of your confession. For so as not to show them giving thanks for this only, I mean for receiving, see how he makes them lofty, as he himself says to the Philippians, "Not that I seek the gift" [Phil 4:17]; and he bears the same witness to these men. For they rejoice that you fill up their wants and relieve their poverty, but much more that you are so subject to the gospel; and a sign of this is your contributing so bountifully. For this is what the gospel enjoins. "And for the liberality of your fellowship with them and with all." And for this reason, he says, they glorify God, that you are so generous, not to them only, but to all. And this again becomes praise of those men, that they give thanks even for what is given to others. For they adorn not only their own affairs, he says, but those of others too, though they are in the utmost poverty; which is a sign of their great virtue. For nothing is so jealous as the race of the poor. But they are pure of this passion, being so far from grieving over what you share with others that they rejoice no less than over what they themselves receive. "And by their prayer for you." For these things they give thanks to God, he says; and for your love and for meeting you they pray, not because of the money, but so as to become spectators of the grace given to you.

Do you see Paul's wisdom, how having lifted them up he referred the whole to God, calling the thing a grace? For since he had spoken great things about them, calling them ministers and lifting them to a height (if indeed they ministered while he only served), and naming them approved, he shows that God is the cause of all these things; and he himself, with them, again offers up thanksgiving, saying, "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!" [2 Cor 9:15]. By "gift" here he means either the many good things [that come from almsgiving] to those who receive and those who give, or the unspeakable good things given to the whole world through his coming with great generosity; which one may most readily suppose. For so as both to restrain them and to make them more bountiful, he reminds them of what they have received from God. For this is the greatest thing for urging on to all virtue; that is why he closed his discourse here. And if the gift is indescribable, what could equal the madness of those who pry into his essence? Not only is his gift indescribable, but also "the peace that surpasses all understanding" [Phil 4:7], through which he reconciled things above to things below.

Let us strive, then, enjoying such great grace, to show a virtue of life worthy of it, and to make much account of almsgiving. And we shall do so if we flee excess, if drunkenness, if gluttony. For God has given food and drink, not for excess but for nourishment. For it is not wine that makes drunkenness; for if that were so, all would have to be drunk. "But," someone says, "even much of it ought not to harm." These are the words of drunkards. For if much harms, and not even so do you stand back from greed; if this is so shameful and harmful, and not even so do you cease from the evil desire; if it were allowed to drink much and suffer no harm, where would you have stopped in the service and ministry of greed? Would you not have desired even the rivers to become wine? Would you not have ruined and destroyed everything? If there is a measure of food, and by passing it we are harmed, and not even so do you bear the bridle, but bursting it you take what belongs to all, so as to serve the evil tyranny of gluttony, what would you not have done if this measure of nature had been taken away? Would you not have spent all your time on this? Ought he then to have made so absurd a desire strong, and not to have prevented the harm that comes from excess? And how many other harms would not have been born of this? But O the folly of those who, wallowing as in mire in drunkenness and their other profligacies, when they become a little sober, sit doing nothing else but uttering these words, "Why is this spent on that?" when they ought to judge their own offenses! For instead of saying, "Why has he set limits? Why is not everything carried along without order?" say, "Why do we not stop being drunk? Why do we take no fill? Why are we more senseless than the irrational animals?" These are the things we ought to ask one another, and to listen to the apostolic voice, and to know how many good things he bears witness come to these people from almsgiving, and to seize this treasure. For this makes men approved, as he himself said, this despising of money, and causes God to be glorified, and warms love, and makes men magnanimous, and appoints them priests, and to a priesthood that brings a great reward. For the merciful man is not clothed in a robe to the feet, nor does he carry bells, nor is he bound with a crown; but he is clad in the robe of kindness, holier than the sacred vestment, and anointed with oil not made of sensible matter but cultivated by the Spirit, and he has a crown made of compassions: "who crowns you," it says, "with mercy and compassions" [Ps 103:4]; and instead of wearing a plate bearing the name of God, he himself becomes like God. How? "You will become," he says, "like your Father who is in heaven" [Matt 5:45].

Do you wish to see his altar too? Not Bezalel built it [Exod 31:2–5], nor anyone else, but God himself; not of stones, but of a material brighter than heaven, of rational souls. "But the priest enters into the Holy of Holies." You may enter into places more awesome, offering this sacrifice, where no one is present but your Father who sees you in secret [Matt 6:4], where no one else sees. "And how," someone says, "is it possible not to be seen, when the altar stands in public?" For this is the wonder, that then double doors and curtains made the solitude; but now one may offer in public as in the Holy of Holies, and do it in a far more awesome way. For when you do it not for display before men, even if the whole world saw, no one saw, since you did it so. For he did not simply say, "Do not do it before men," but added, "to be seen by them" [Matt 6:1]. This altar is composed of the very members of Christ, and the body of the Master becomes an altar for you. Revere this very thing: you offer the victim on the flesh of the Master. This altar is more awesome even than the present one, not only than the old. But do not be troubled; for this one is wonderful because of the sacrifice laid upon it; but that of the merciful man not for this reason only, but also because it is composed of the very sacrifice which makes this one so. Again, this one is wonderful because it is stone by nature but becomes holy because it receives Christ's body; but that one, because it is itself the body of Christ. So that it is more awesome than this altar beside which you, the layman, stand. Does Aaron seem anything to you beside these things? Or the crown, or the bells, or the Holy of Holies? For why must we compare it any longer with that altar, when even compared with this one it has appeared so glorious? But you honor this altar because it receives the body of Christ, while you insult him who is himself the body of Christ and overlook him perishing. This altar you can see lying everywhere, in alleys and in market places, and you can sacrifice on it at every hour; for here too a sacrifice is performed. And as the priest stands calling down the Spirit, so you too call down the Spirit, not by voice but by deeds. For nothing so holds and kindles the fire of the Spirit as this oil poured out bountifully. And if you wish to see what becomes of the offerings, come, and I will show you this too. What then is the smoke? What is the sweet savor of this altar? Glory and thanksgiving. And how far does it go up? Only to heaven? Not at all; but it goes beyond heaven itself and the heaven of heaven, and stands beside the royal throne itself: "Your prayers and your alms," it says, "have gone up before God" [Acts 10:4]. And the sweet savor perceived by the senses does not even pierce much of the air; but this opens the very vaults of heaven. And you are silent, but the deed cries out; and it becomes a sacrifice of praise, not of a heifer slaughtered nor of a hide burned, but of a spiritual soul offering what is its own. For such a sacrifice is better approved than all [other] kindness. When, then, you see a poor believer, think that you are seeing an altar; when you see such a beggar, not only do not insult him, but even revere him; for so you will be able to have God gracious to you and to obtain the promised good things; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, and so on.

["Now I, Paul, myself entreat you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ, I who in your presence am lowly among you, but being absent am bold toward you; but I beg you that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some who count us as walking according to the flesh"] [2 Cor 10:1–2]. Having completed his discourse on almsgiving as he ought, and having shown that he loves them more than he is loved, and having recounted his endurance and his trials, he now fittingly takes up words of a sharper rebuke, attacking the false apostles, and closing the letter with the more burdensome matters, and commending himself. For he does this through the whole letter. Hence, being aware of it, he often corrects himself, saying this very thing: "Are we beginning again to commend ourselves?" [2 Cor 3:1]; and further on he says, "We are not commending ourselves to you again, but giving you an occasion to boast" [2 Cor 5:12]; and after this, "I have become a fool in boasting; you compelled me" [2 Cor 12:11]. And he uses many such corrections. And one would not be wrong to call this letter an encomium of Paul; so abundantly does he set out the gifts of grace and his own endurance. For since there were some among them who thought highly of themselves and set themselves above the apostle, slandering him as a boaster and as a nobody who taught nothing sound (for this was above all the proof of their corruption), see how he begins his rebuke against them: "Now I, Paul, myself." Do you see how great the weight is, how great the dignity? For what he means to say is this: I beg you, do not compel me, do not let me use my power against those who make nothing of us and think us carnal men. This is heavier than what he said threatening them in the first letter: "Shall I come to you with a rod, or in love and a spirit of meekness?" [1 Cor 4:21]; and, "Some are puffed up, as though I were not coming to you. But I will come and will find out, not the talk of those who are puffed up, but their power" [1 Cor 4:18–19]. For here he shows both, both his power and his philosophy and forbearance, if indeed he entreats so and with such earnestness, so as not to be compelled to come to a display of his own punishing power, and to strike them and chastise them and exact the utmost penalty. For this is what he hinted at in saying, "But I beg you that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some who count us as walking according to the flesh."

But for the present let us bring the discourse back to the beginning. "Now I, Paul, myself." Great is the emphasis, great the weight; as he says elsewhere, "Look: I, Paul, say to you" [Gal 5:2]; and again, "as Paul the aged" [Phlm 9]; and again elsewhere, "she has been a helper of many, and of me myself" [Rom 16:2]. So here too [he puts forward the meekness] and gentleness [of Christ], making his supplication greater by this; as if he said: Reverence the very gentleness of Christ, by which I entreat you. And he said this at the same time to show that even if they bring countless compulsions, he himself inclines more to this because he is meek; and not because of weakness does he not proceed against them, since Christ too did so. "I who in your presence am lowly among you, but being absent am bold toward you." What is this? Either he speaks in irony, repeating their words. For they said this: when he is present he is worth nothing, but is mean and contemptible; but when he is absent he is puffed up and boasts and rises up against us and threatens. This, at any rate, he hints at in what follows, saying, "For his letters," he says, "are weighty, but his bodily presence [is weak]" [2 Cor 10:10]. ... he speaks in irony, showing great weight and saying: "I, the lowly one; I, the mean one when present, as they say, and lofty when absent." Or he means that even if he speaks great things, it is not from arrogance, but from confidence in them. "But I beg you that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some who count us as walking according to the flesh." Do you see how great the indignation is, and how plain the refutation of what had been said? For I beg you, he says, do not compel me to show that even when present I am strong and have power. For since they said that "when absent he is very bold toward you and exalts himself," he uses their very words: I beg, then, that they may not compel me to use my power. For this is "with the confidence." And he did not say, "with which I have prepared myself," but "with which I count." For I have not yet decided this, but they give me the cause; yet not even so do I wish it. And yet he did this not to avenge himself, but the gospel. But if, where he ought to have avenged the preaching, he is not severe, but draws back and delays, and entreats that no such necessity arise, much more would he never have done anything of the kind for himself.

Grant me this, then, he says: do not compel me to show that even when present I can be bold against those I must, that is, chastise them and punish them. Do you see how he was not ambitious, nor did anything for display, since even when there was need he calls the thing "daring"? "For I beg you," he says, "that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some." For this above all belongs to a teacher: not to avenge himself quickly, but to correct, and always to delay and be slow in punishments. And who are these whom he threatens? "Those who count us as walking according to the flesh." For they slandered him as a hypocrite, as wicked, as a boaster.

"For though we walk in the flesh, we do not wage war according to the flesh" [2 Cor 10:3]. Here at last he also frightens them by the figure of speech: we are clothed with flesh, he says, I admit, but we do not live by the flesh. Or rather, he did not even say this, but reserves it for the present; for that is praise of his life. But he is speaking about the preaching, showing that it is not human, nor in need of help from below. That is why he did not say, "We do not live according to the flesh," but, "We do not wage war according to the flesh"; that is, we have undertaken a war and a battle, but we do not fight with fleshly weapons, nor with any human alliance. "For the weapons of our warfare are not fleshly" [2 Cor 10:4]. For what are fleshly weapons? Wealth, glory, power, eloquence, cleverness, wiles, flatteries, hypocrisies, and the other things like these. But ours are not such; but what? "Powerful to God." And he did not say, "We are not fleshly," but, "our weapons." For as I said, for the present he is speaking about the preaching, and ascribes all the power to God. And he does not say "spiritual," though this was the word opposed to "fleshly," but "powerful," hinting by this at that too, and showing that theirs are weak and powerless. And consider his freedom from pride. For he did not say, "We are powerful," but, "Our weapons are powerful to God." We did not make them such, but God himself. For since they were scourged, driven out, and suffered countless incurable things, which were marks of weakness, showing the strength of God he says, "But they are powerful to God." For this above all shows his strength, that he prevails through these things. So even if we wear them, it is he who fights and works through them.

Then he goes through a long praise of them, saying, "for the casting down of strongholds." And so that you may not, on hearing "strongholds," think of something sensible, he says, "casting down reasonings" [2 Cor 10:5]; by the metaphor showing the vividness, and by what follows indicating the spiritual nature of the war. For these strongholds besiege souls, not bodies. So they are stronger than those others; that is why they need greater weapons. And by strongholds he means the pride of the Greeks, and the strength of their sophisms and syllogisms. But nevertheless, he says, these weapons refuted all things that stood against them. "For we cast down reasonings and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." He persisted in the metaphor, to make the vividness greater. For even if there are strongholds, he says, even if towers, even if anything else, it yields and gives way to these weapons. "And bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ." And yet the name of captivity has an ill sound; for it is the destruction of freedom. Why then does he use it? In another sense. For the word captivity signifies two things: both the loss of freedom, and being taken by force so as not to rise again. And it is in this second sense that he took it. As when he says, "I robbed other churches" [2 Cor 11:8], he does not mean robbery, but stripping and taking everything; so here too in saying "bringing into captivity." For the battle is not on equal terms, but with great ease. He did not say "one or two," but "every" thought; and he did not say only "we conquer and prevail," but "we take captive"; just as above he did not say, "We bring engines against the strongholds," but "we cast them down"; for great is the abundance of the weapons. For we do not fight with words, he says, but with deeds against words, not in fleshly wisdom, but in a spirit of meekness and of power. How then would I have been ambitious, he says, and boasted with words, and threatened with letters, as they slandered me, saying, "His letters are weighty," when our strength did not lie in these things at all?

And having said, "bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ," since the name of captivity is heavy, he quickly dissolved the figure, saying, "to the obedience of Christ": from slavery to freedom, from death to life, from destruction to salvation. For we did not come simply to strike down, but to bring over to the truth those who oppose it. "And being ready to punish all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled" [2 Cor 10:6]. Here he frightened these people too, not those others only. For we wait for you, he says, so that when we have corrected you by exhortation and threat, and cleansed you and separated you from their fellowship, then, when they alone are left, incurably sick, we may bring the punishment on them, when we see that you have genuinely stood apart. For you obey even now, but not perfectly. "And yet if you had done it now," someone says, "you would have made a greater gain." Not at all; for if I had done it now, I would have involved you too in the punishment. "But you ought to have punished them and spared us." But if I had spared you, I would have seemed to do it as a favor; but now I do not wish this, but first to set you right, and then to proceed against them. What could be gentler than that heart? Seeing his own people mingled with strangers, he wishes to bring the blow, but he spares, and holds back his indignation until they have withdrawn, so that he may strike those alone; or rather, not even those. For this is why he threatens, and says he wishes to single out those others alone [for punishment], so that they too, corrected by fear, may change, and he may not let loose his wrath on anyone. For like an excellent physician, a common father, protector and guardian, so he did everything, so he cared for all, running round the obstacles. For he did not accomplish things as one fighting, but setting up trophies as one coming to a ready and easy victory, demolishing, [overturning], casting down the strongholds of the devil and the engines of the demons, and carrying off all the spoil into the camp of Christ; and he did not take breath even for a little, leaping from these to those, and again from those to others, like an excellent general setting up trophies every day, or rather every hour. For entering the battle line in a tunic only, he took the cities of the enemy, men and all; and the tongue of Paul was bows and spears and arrows and everything. For he only spoke, and his words fell on the enemy more fiercely than any fire; and he drove out the demons, and brought back to himself the men possessed by them. When, at any rate, he cast out that wicked demon, fifty thousand sorcerers came together, burned their books of magic, and went over to the truth [Acts 19:11–19]. And as in war, when a tower falls or a tyrant is brought down, all who were with him throw down their arms and run to the general, so it happened then. For when the demon was cast out, all of them, being [besieged], and throwing down their books, or rather destroying them, ran to Paul's feet. And he, arrayed against the world as against one camp, stood still nowhere, but as if he had wings did everything: now he set a lame man right [Acts 14:8–10], now raised a dead man [Acts 20:9–12], now blinded another, I mean the sorcerer [Acts 13:6–11]; and not even when shut up in prison did he rest, but even there he brought the jailer over to himself [Acts 16:25–34], working this good captivity ...

Let us too, then, imitate him as far as we can. And why do I say, "as far as we can"? For it is possible for one who wishes even to come near him, and to behold his valor and imitate his courage. For he still does this, "casting down reasonings and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." And yet many heretics have tried to cut him in pieces; but nevertheless, even limb by limb, he shows great strength. For Marcion and Mani use him, but cutting him up; yet even so they are refuted by the limbs. For even a hand of this champion alone, being among them, drives them utterly out; and a foot alone among others pursues and casts them down, so that you may learn the abundance of his power, and that even when cut up he is enough to take all his opponents. "And yet," someone says, "this is a mark of perversity, that all who fight one another use him." Of perversity indeed, but God forbid that it be Paul's; rather of those who use him. For he was not a complicated man, but simple and clear; but these have twisted his words to their own notions. "And why was it said in such a way as to give a handle to those who wish?" He did not give it, but their madness; for they did not use these words as they ought. For this whole world too is wonderful and great, and a proof of the wisdom of God; and "the heavens declare the glory of God, and day to day pours forth speech, and night to night shows knowledge" [Ps 19:1–2]; but nevertheless many have stumbled at it, and in opposite directions from one another. Some admired it beyond its worth, so as to think it God; others were so ignorant of its beauty as to think it unworthy of being God's workmanship, and to ascribe the greater part of it to some evil matter. And yet God secured himself against both, making it beautiful and great, so that it might not be thought foreign to his wisdom, but needy and not self-sufficient, so that it might not be suspected to be God. But nevertheless those who were blinded by their own reasonings fell into opposite notions, refuting one another, becoming one another's accusers, and defending the wisdom of God against the very reasonings by which they had gone astray. And why do I speak of the sun and the heaven? The Jews saw so many wonders happening before their eyes, and at once worshipped a calf [Exod 32:1–6]. Again, they saw Christ driving out demons, and called him possessed [John 8:48]. But this is no charge against the one who drove them out, but an accusation of the minds of those who were blinded. Do not, then, condemn Paul because of the mind of those who use him badly; but learn his treasure well and unfold his wealth, and you will stand nobly against all, fortified with his weapons; so you will be able to stop the mouths both of Greeks and of Jews. "And how," someone says, "when they do not believe him?" From what was done through him, from the reformation throughout the world. For it was not in human power to be able to do so much; but the strength of the Crucified, breathing into him, made him such, and showed him more powerful than orators and philosophers and tyrants and kings and all. This man is able not only to arm himself and strike the enemy, but to make others such as well. So that we may be useful both to ourselves and to others, then, let us handle him continually, delighting in his writings instead of a meadow and a garden. For so we shall be able both to be freed from vice and to choose virtue, and to obtain the promised good things, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

"Do you look at things according to outward appearance? If anyone is confident in himself that he is Christ's, let him consider this again from himself, that as he is Christ's, so also are we" [2 Cor 10:7]. What one might especially admire in Paul, among other things, is this: that having fallen into a great necessity of exalting himself, he achieves both this very thing and not seeming burdensome to the many because of this self-praise; which one may see above all in the letter to the Galatians. For there too, having fallen into such a subject, he takes care of both of these; which is among the very hardest things and needs much wisdom: he both is moderate and says something great about himself. And consider how here too he does it.

"Do you look at things according to outward appearance?" See his wisdom here too. Having rebuked those who deceive them, he did not stop his word at them, but leaps from them to these as well; and he does this continually. For he attacks not only those who corrupt, but also those who have been deceived. For if he had let them go unaccountable, they would not have been corrected so easily by what was said to others, but would even have been greatly puffed up, as not liable to any charge. That is why he attacks them too. And not only is this admirable in him, but also that he rebukes each in a fitting way. Hear, at any rate, what he says to these: "Do you look at things according to outward appearance?" The charge is not small, but very great. How? Because the race of men is easily deceived, he says. What he says is this: You judge from what appears, from fleshly things, from bodily things. What is "from what appears"? If someone is rich, if someone is puffed up, if someone is surrounded by many flatterers, if someone says great things about himself, if someone is vainglorious, if someone feigns virtue without having virtue; for this is "Do you look at things according to outward appearance?" "If anyone is confident in himself that he is Christ's, let him consider this again from himself, that as he is Christ's, so also are we." For he does not wish to be vehement from the outset, but grows little by little and reaches a climax. And consider here the great sharpness, and the great hint contained in it. For "from himself" is the language of one who indicates [more]. For let him not wait, he says, to learn from us, that is, through our rebuke against him; but let him reckon this from himself, "that as he is Christ's, so also are we": not that he was Christ's in the same way as that man, but "as he is Christ's, so I too am Christ's." In this respect there is fellowship; for it is not that he is Christ's and I someone else's.

And having set down this equality, he adds the superiority too, saying, "For even if I boast somewhat more about the authority which the Lord gave me for building up and not for casting down, I will not be put to shame" [2 Cor 10:8]. For since he was about to say something great, see how he softens it. For nothing so offends most hearers as someone praising himself. That is why, cutting off the heaviness, he says this: "For even if I boast somewhat more." And he did not say, "If anyone is confident that he is Christ's, let him reckon that he is far from us; for I have great authority from him, so as to punish and kill whomever I wish"; but what? "For even if I boast somewhat more." And yet he had unspeakable authority; but nevertheless he contracts it in his words. And he did not say, "I boast," but "if I boast," "if I wish to," being at once moderate and showing his superiority. "If, then, I boast," he says, "about the authority which the Lord gave me." Again he ascribes the whole to him and makes the gift common. "For building up and not for casting down." Do you see how again he soothes the envy that comes from praise, and draws the hearer on, by stating the use for which he received it? And how does he say, "casting down reasonings"? Because this very thing is above all a kind of building up: removing obstacles, refuting what is rotten, and putting together what is true. "For building up." For this, then, we received it, that we might build up. But if anyone fights and makes war and is incurable, we shall use the other operation too, casting him down and overthrowing him. That is why he says, "I will not be put to shame," that is, [even when casting down.]

"That I may not seem as if I would terrify you by letters. For his letters, he says, are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech of no account. Let such a person consider this, that what we are in word by letters when absent, such are we also in deed when present" [2 Cor 10:9–11]. What he says is this: I could boast; but so that they may not say the same things again, that I brag when I write and am contemptible when present, I will say nothing great. And yet later he did speak, but not about this power through which he was formidable, but about revelations, and still more about trials. "So that I may not seem to terrify you, let such a person consider this, that what we are in word by letters when absent, such are we also in deed when present." For since they said that he writes great things about himself, but when present is worth nothing, he therefore says this, and that too in a restrained way. For he did not say, "As we write great things, so we do great things when present," but rather in a subdued manner. For when he was speaking to those others, he set it down vehemently, saying, "I beg you that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some"; but when to these, he lowered his tone. That is why he says, "what we are when present and when absent," that is, lowly, restrained, nowhere boasting. And this is plain from what follows: "For we do not dare to class or compare ourselves with some" [2 Cor 10:12].

["... of those who commend themselves."] Here he shows that those others are boasters, speaking great things about themselves; and he ridicules them as commending themselves. But we do nothing of the kind, he says; but if we have done anything great, we refer it all to God, and compare ourselves with one another. That is why he added, "But they, measuring themselves by themselves and comparing themselves with themselves, are without understanding." What he says is this: we do not compare ourselves with those men, but with one another. For further on he said, "I am in nothing behind the super-apostles" [2 Cor 11:5; 12:11]; and in the first letter, "I labored more abundantly than they all" [1 Cor 15:10]; and again, "The signs of an apostle were wrought among you in all endurance" [2 Cor 12:12]. So we compare ourselves with ourselves, not with those who have nothing; for such arrogance belongs to folly. Either, then, he says this about himself, or about those others: "We do not dare to compare ourselves with those who vie with one another and boast great things, and are without understanding," that is, do not perceive how ridiculous they are in such bragging, exalting themselves among one another.

"But we will not boast beyond measure" [2 Cor 10:13], as these do. For it is likely that they bragged, saying, "We have converted the world, we have reached the ends of the earth," and spoke many other such big words. But not so we, he says; "but according to the measure of the rule which God apportioned to us as a measure, to reach even as far as you." So that on both sides his humility shines: both that he [boasted of nothing more than he had done,] and that he ascribes this very thing to God. "For according to the measure of the rule," he says, "which God apportioned to us as a measure, to reach even as far as you." As one dividing a vineyard among husbandmen, so he marked out our portion for us. As far, then, as we were counted worthy to reach, so far we boast. "For we are not overextending ourselves, as though we did not reach to you; for we came even as far as you in the gospel of Christ" [2 Cor 10:14]. We did not simply come; we set things right. For it is likely that those men, simply arriving among the disciples of the apostles, reckoned the whole to themselves from their bare visit. But not so we; nor could anyone say that we were not able to come as far as you, and only by word extend our boasting as far as you; for we preached the word to you too. "Not boasting beyond measure in other men's labors; but having hope that, as your faith increases, we shall be enlarged among you according to our rule abundantly, so as to preach the gospel in the regions beyond you, not to boast in another's rule of things made ready to hand" [2 Cor 10:15–16]. From this he shows a great accusation against those men: that they boasted beyond measure, and in what belonged to others, and that the sweat was all the apostles', while they prided themselves on those men's labors. But we, he says, have shown these things by deeds. We will not, then, imitate those men, but we will say those things to which our deeds bear witness. And why do I speak of you, he says? "For I have hope that as your faith increases"; for he does not declare it simply, following his own character, but, "I hope," he says, "as you advance, that our rule will be extended still further, so as to preach the gospel in the regions beyond." For we shall go on still further, he says, so as to preach and toil, not so as to brag in words about what others labored at. And well he called it a rule and a measure, as one who had come to take possession of the world, a most excellent inheritance, and showing the whole to be the work of God. Having, then, such works, he says, and expecting greater, we do not brag, as those men do who have nothing, nor do we reckon anything to ourselves, but the whole to God. That is why he adds, "But he who boasts, let him boast in the Lord" [2 Cor 10:17; Jer 9:24]. And this too, he says, comes to us from God. "For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends" [2 Cor 10:18]. He did not say, "We are," but "the one whom the Lord commends." Do you see how restrained his language is? And if further on he rises to loftier things, do not wonder; for this too belongs to Paul's wisdom. For if he had been going to speak humbly everywhere, he would not have struck those men so, nor freed the disciples from their error. For one can do harm by being moderate out of season, and help by saying something wonderful about oneself in season. Just as he himself did. For there was no small danger that the disciples might be persuaded of something bad about Paul; not because Paul sought glory from men. For if he had sought it, he would not have kept silent so long a time about those great and wonderful things of fourteen years before [2 Cor 12:2]; nor, when necessity pressed, would he have drawn back so and hesitated to speak. And it is plain that he would not have spoken even then, if [he had not been compelled.] So then he did not seek glory from men [but cared for the disciples]. For since they slandered him as a boaster who bragged in words but could show nothing in deeds, he is at last compelled to come to those revelations. And yet, though he could persuade them by deeds when he was saying these things, nevertheless he uses the threat in words. For both his former life and his later one were utterly free of vainglory. For this reason, at any rate, he changed sides all at once, and having changed, confounded the Jews, and threw away all that honor from them, [though he was their leader.] But he gave no thought to any of these things once he had found the truth, but took in exchange their insults and dishonors; for he looked to the salvation of the many, counting this as everything. For a man who counted neither hell nor the kingdom as anything, nor ten thousand worlds, compared with his longing for Christ, how would he hunt after glory from the many? Not at all; but he is even very humble when he may be, and publishes his former life as on a pillar, calling himself a blasphemer and persecutor and insolent man [1 Tim 1:13]. And his disciple Luke says much about him, having learned it from him, as he exposed his former life no less than the later one. And I say these things not that we may only hear, but that we may also learn.

For if that man remembered the offenses committed before the washing, though they had all been blotted out, what pardon could we have, who do not remember those committed after the washing? What do you say, man? You have offended God, and you forget? This is a second offense, a second enmity. For what sins, then, do you ask release? Those which you do not even know yourself? Yes indeed. For you are not anxious and concerned about how you will give account, you who do not even take pains to remember them, but play with things that are not for play. But there will be a time when play will no longer go forward for us. For we must certainly die (for because of the great insensibility of the many one must speak even about what is obvious), and certainly rise again, and certainly be judged, and be punished; or rather, this last not certainly, if we are willing. For of those things we are not masters, neither of our death, nor of our resurrection, nor of the judgment, but our Master is; but of paying the penalty, or not, we are masters; for this is among the things that may or may not happen. But if we are willing, we shall make it impossible, as Paul did, as Peter, as all the saints; for it is impossible for them to be punished. If, then, we are willing, it is likewise impossible for us to suffer anything. For even if we have committed countless offenses, it is possible to recover ourselves as long as we are here. Let us recover ourselves, then. And let the old man consider that a little later he will depart, since he has had his fill of luxury in his youth (though what sort of luxury is it to live in vice? But for now I speak according to his opinion); let him consider, after this, that he can wash away the whole in a short time. Let the young man in turn consider the uncertainty of death, and that often, while many older men remain here, the young are carried off before them. For so that we might not make a business of our death, it lies in uncertainty. That is why a certain wise man exhorts us, saying, "Do not wait to turn to the Lord, and do not put it off from day to day" [Sir 5:7]; "for you do not know what the coming day will bring forth" [Prov 27:1]. For from putting off come danger and fear, but from not putting off, a salvation that is clear and safe. Hold fast, then, to virtue. For so, even if you depart young, you will have departed safely; and if you come to old age, you will have departed with great wealth; and you will keep a double festival through your whole life, both abstaining from vice and laying hold of virtue. Do not say, "There will be a time when I must turn"; for these words greatly provoke God. Why? Because he has promised you endless ages, while you are not willing to toil even through the present life, this short and temporary one, but are so slack and unmanly as to seek one shorter even than this. Are not the revels the same every day? Are not the tables the same? Are not the harlots the same, the theaters the same, the money the same? How long will you love these things as though they were something? How long will you have an insatiable desire for vice? Consider that [as often as you have committed sexual immorality, so often you have condemned yourself.] For such is sin: no sooner is it done than [sentence is passed. Have you been drunk, or gluttonous,] or have you robbed? Stop now, turn back the other way, give thanks to God that he did not snatch you away in the midst of your sins; do not seek another term for doing evil. Many [have been snatched away] in the midst [of their greed and have gone to] a manifest penalty. Fear lest you too suffer this without excuse. "But God has given many a term, and to confess in extreme old age." What then? Will he give it to you as well? "Perhaps he will," someone says. What do you say? "Perhaps," and "sometimes," and "often"? Consider that you are deliberating about a soul, and set down the opposite too, and reckon and say, "What if he does not give it?" "And what if he does give it?" he says. He has indeed given it; but this course is safer and more profitable than that. For if you begin now, you have gained everything, whether you receive a term or not; but if you are always delaying, for this very reason you will often not receive one. When you go out to war, you do not say, "There is no need to make a will; perhaps I shall return"; nor when deliberating about marriage do you say, "Let me take a poor wife; many have grown rich even so, against expectation"; nor when building a house [do you say, "Let me lay a rotten foundation; many houses] have stood even so"; but when deliberating about the soul, you take hold of what is more rotten, setting down "perhaps" and "surely" and "sometimes," and [entrust] yourself to uncertainties? "Not to uncertainty," he says, "but to the lovingkindness of God; for God is lovingkind." I know it too; but this lovingkind God snatched away those I spoke of as well. And what if, having received time, you remain the same? For such a man will be careless even in old age. "No," he says. For this reasoning, even after eighty years, seeks ninety, and after ninety a hundred, and after a hundred he will be lazier still. And so the whole life will be spent in vain, and what was said about the Jews will happen to you too: "Their days were consumed in vanity" [Ps 78:33]. And would that it were in vanity only, and not also for evil. For when we depart there carrying the heavy load of our sins (for this is "for evil"), we shall bring food for the fire and a rich table for the worm [Mark 9:48]. Therefore I beg and entreat you to stand firm at last, nobly, and to depart from vice, so that we may obtain the promised good things; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

["I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness; but indeed you do bear with me"] [2 Cor 11:1]. Being about to enter on his own praises, he uses much correction beforehand. And he does this not once or twice; and yet the necessity of the subject was enough to excuse him, as well as what he had often said. For one who remembered sins which God did not remember, and for this reason said that he was unworthy even of the very name of apostle [1 Cor 15:9], is plainly, even to the very dull, not saying what he is now about to say for the sake of glory. For indeed, if one must say something wonderful, this above all hurt him with regard to glory, saying something about himself; and this offends the many. But nevertheless he gave no thought to any of these things, but looked to one thing, the salvation of his hearers. So, then, so as not to harm the foolish by this, by saying great things about himself, he uses these many corrections in abundance. "I wish you would bear with me" ... as one acting foolishly; "but indeed you do bear with me." Do you see his wisdom? For to say "I wish" is the part of one who makes them masters of the matter; but to declare it outright is the part of one very confident of their love, and showing that he both loves and is loved; or rather, he says that they must bear with him even when he acts foolishly, not from simple love, but from a warm and frenzied passion. That is why he added, "For I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy" [2 Cor 11:2]. He did not say, "For I love you," but sets down what was far more vehement than this. For souls that burn exceedingly for those they love are jealous, and jealousy could not be born from anything but vehement love. Then, so that they may not think that he desires their friendship for the sake of power, or honor, or money, or anything else of the kind, he added, "with a godly jealousy." For God too is said to be jealous, not so that anyone may suspect passion (for the divine is free from passion), but so that all may learn that he does everything for nothing else than for the sake of those over whom he is jealous, not to gain anything himself, but to save them. For among men jealousy does not arise so, but for the sake of one's own [repose; not because the loved ones are insulted, but] so that those who love may not be wounded, nor be outdone by others, nor have less with those they love. But here it is not so. For I do not care about this, he says, lest I have less with you, but lest I see you corrupted. For such is the jealousy of God, and such is mine too, vehement and pure at once.

Then the reason too, a compelling one: "For I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ." So then I am jealous not for myself, but for him to whom I betrothed you. For the present time is the time of betrothal, but the time of the bridal chamber is another, when they will say, "The bridegroom has risen." O new things! In the world, women are virgins before marriage, but after marriage no longer. But here it is not so; but even if they are not virgins before this marriage, after the marriage they become virgins. So the whole church is a virgin. For he says these things speaking to all, both married men and married women. But let us see what he brought when he betrothed us, what bridal gifts. Not gold, not silver, but the kingdom of heaven. That is why he said, "We are ambassadors for Christ" [2 Cor 5:20], and he entreats, when he was about to take the bride. A type of this was what happened with Abraham. For he sent his faithful servant to seek in betrothal a Gentile girl [Gen 24]; and here God sent his own servants to seek the church in betrothal for his Son, and the prophets from of old, saying, "Hear, O daughter, and see, and forget your people and your father's house, and the king will desire your beauty" [Ps 45:10–11]. Do you see the prophet too making the betrothal? Do you see the apostle too uttering this word with great boldness and saying, "I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ"? Do you see his wisdom again? For having said, "You ought to bear with me," he did not say, "For I am your teacher," nor, "I speak for my own sake"; but he sets down what brought them the greatest dignity, placing himself in the position of the one who arranges the betrothal, and them in the rank of the bride. And he adds, saying, "But I am afraid lest, as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is toward Christ" [2 Cor 11:3]. For even if the ruin would be yours, the despondency is common. And consider his wisdom: he does not declare it outright, though they had been corrupted; and making this plain he said, "when your obedience is fulfilled" [2 Cor 10:6], and, "I shall mourn many of those who have sinned before" [2 Cor 12:21]; but nevertheless he does not let them become shameless; that is why he says, "lest." For he neither condemns nor keeps silent; for neither is safe, either to speak openly or to conceal continually. That is why he sets down the middle course, saying, "lest." For this belongs to one neither greatly condemning nor greatly confident, but standing between the two. Thus, then, he comforted them; but by recalling the story he brought them to fear. For even if the serpent was wicked and she was foolish, yet none of these things excused the woman.

See, then, that you do not suffer this, he says, and nothing will protect you. For that one too deceived her by promising greater things. From this it is plain that these men too deceived them by bragging and puffing them up. And one may conjecture this not only from this, but also from what he says afterwards: "For if the one who comes preaches another Jesus whom we did not preach, or you receive a different spirit which you did not receive, or a different gospel which you did not accept, you would do well to bear with it" [2 Cor 11:4]. And he does not say, "lest, as Adam was deceived," but shows that those who suffer these things are women; for being deceived belongs to women. And he did not say, "so you too may be deceived," but, staying still in the metaphor, he says, "lest your minds be corrupted from the simplicity that is toward Christ." From your simplicity, I mean, not from wickedness; it is neither from wickedness nor from your unbelief, but from simplicity. But nevertheless even so those who are deceived do not deserve pardon; and Eve made this plain. And if this does not deserve pardon, much less when someone suffers it through vainglory. "For if the one who comes preaches another Jesus whom we did not preach." From this he shows that the Corinthians were not being corrupted from among themselves, but that the deceivers came to them from elsewhere; that is why he says, "the one who comes." "Or you receive a different spirit, or a different gospel which you did not accept, you would do well to bear with it." What are you saying? You who said to the Galatians, "If anyone preaches to you a gospel contrary to what you received, let him be accursed" [Gal 1:9], now say, "You would do well to bear with it"? Surely for this reason one ought not to bear with it but to leap away; but if they say the same things, one ought to bear with them. How then do you say, since they say the same things, that one ought not to bear with them? For if they said different things, he says, ought one to bear with them? Let us pay attention, then; for the danger is great and the precipice deep, if we run past it lightly, and what has been said gives an entrance to all the heresies. What, then, is the meaning of these words? Those men bragged as though the apostles taught imperfectly, as though they themselves brought in something more. For it is likely that [with much idle talk they were bringing in] senseless [things to overlay] these doctrines. That is why he recalled the serpent and Eve, who was so deceived by the expectation of more. He hinted at this in the first letter too, saying, "Already you have become rich; without us you have reigned" [1 Cor 4:8]; and again, "We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ" [1 Cor 4:10]. Since, then, it is likely that they talked much nonsense, using outside wisdom, he says this: if these men said anything more, and preached another Christ who ought to have been preached, but we left him out, you would do well to bear with it; for this is why he added, "whom we did not preach." But if the heads of the faith are the same, what is the more? For whatever they say, they will say nothing more than what we have said. And see how exactly he sets it down. For he did not say, "If the one who comes says something more"; for they did say something more, haranguing with greater license and with much beauty of words; that is why he did not say this, but what? "The one who comes preaches another Jesus," which had no need of preparation by words; "or you receive a different spirit" (and here too there was no need of words), that is, makes you richer in grace; "or a different gospel which you did not accept"; nor did this again need words: "you would do well to bear with it." But consider, I pray you, how everywhere he uses the qualification which shows that nothing superfluous, nothing more, has been brought in by them. For having said, "If the one who comes preaches another Jesus," he added, "whom we did not preach"; and "you receive a different spirit," he added, "which you did not receive"; "or a different gospel," he added, "which you did not accept"; showing by all of them that one must not simply attend if they say something more, but only if they say something more that ought to have been said and was left out by us. But if it ought not even to have been said, which is why it was not said by us either, why [do you gape after them]?

"And yet," someone says, "if they say the same things, why do you hinder them?" Because, using hypocrisy, they bring in other doctrines. But this he does not say for the present, but sets it down later, when he says, "They disguise themselves as apostles of Christ" [2 Cor 11:13]; but for the present he draws the disciples away from their authority by milder arguments, not out of envy of those men, but to secure these people. Otherwise, why does he not hinder Apollos, though he was an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures [Acts 18:24], but even entreats him and promises to send him [1 Cor 16:12]? Because with his learning he also kept the orthodoxy of the doctrines; but these men did the opposite. That is why he makes war on them, and accuses the disciples who gape after them, saying: if we left out anything that ought to have been said, and they supplied it, we do not forbid you to attend; but if everything has been completed by us and nothing is left out, how did they take hold of you? That is why he adds, saying, ["For I reckon that I am in nothing behind the super-]apostles" [2 Cor 11:5], no longer making the comparison with those men, but with Peter and those with him. So that if they know anything more than I, they know more than those too. And see how here too he is moderate. For he did not say, "The apostles said nothing more than I"; but how? "I reckon": so I think, that "I am in nothing behind the super-apostles." For since this too seemed a deficiency in him, that those men, having come first, had a greater name, and the glory was greater about them, and these men were going to slip themselves in alongside them, for this reason he makes the comparison with them, with the bearing fitting for him. That is why he mentions them with praise too, not saying simply "the apostles," but "the super-apostles," meaning Peter and James and John.

"But even if I am unskilled in speech, yet I am not in knowledge" [2 Cor 11:6]. For since those who were corrupting the Corinthians had the advantage in this, that they were not unskilled, he sets this down too, showing that he is not ashamed of it but even prides himself on it. And he did not say, "Even if I am unskilled in speech, so are those"; for this would have seemed to slander those too and to exalt these men; but he pulls down the thing itself, outside wisdom. And in the first letter he contends vehemently about it, saying that not only does it contribute nothing to this preaching, but it even overshadows the glory of the cross: "For I came to you," he says, "not with superiority of speech or wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be made void" [1 Cor 2:1; 1:17]; and many other such things; [and he shows] that they were unskilled in knowledge, which is the utmost unskilfulness. When, then, he had to compare himself in great matters, he compares himself with the apostles; but when he had to show what seemed a deficiency, no longer, but grapples with the thing itself and shows that it has become an advantage. And when no necessity pressed, he says he is the least of the apostles and not worthy even of the name [1 Cor 15:9]; but here again, when the occasion called, he says he is in nothing behind the super-apostles. For he knew this would above all help the disciples. That is why he adds, saying, "But in everything we have been made manifest among all to you." For here again he accuses the false apostles of walking in craftiness. And he said these things about himself earlier too, that he did not live for appearance, nor preach the word deceitfully or peddling it [2 Cor 2:17; 4:2]. But those men were one thing and appeared another; but not he. That is why everywhere he prides himself on doing nothing for the glory of men, and on not concealing his own affairs. As he said earlier, "by the manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience" [2 Cor 4:2]; and now he says, "In everything we have been made manifest to you." What is this? We are unskilled, he says, and do not hide it; we receive from some, and do not keep silent. We receive from you, then, and do not pretend not to receive, as these men do while receiving; but we make everything plain to you. And this was the part of one who was very confident and who announced everything with truth. That is why he calls them as witnesses, both now in saying "among all to you," and earlier in saying, "For we write to you nothing other than what you read or also acknowledge" [2 Cor 1:13].

Then, since he had defended himself on his own account, he adds the next point weightily, saying, "Or did I commit a sin in humbling myself so that you might be exalted?" [2 Cor 11:7]. And explaining it, he says, "I robbed other churches, [taking wages] for your service" [2 Cor 11:8]. What he says is this: I lived in straits; for this is "humbling myself." Do you have this to charge me with? And were you exalted through this? And how were they exalted while he was in straits? They were the more built up and not scandalized; which would be the greatest accusation against them and a charge of their weakness, that it was not possible to lead them on otherwise than by his humbling himself first. [Do you blame] me, then, because I became lowly? But it was through this that you were exalted. For since he said above too that they slandered him as being lowly when present but bold when absent [2 Cor 10:1], [in defending himself he strikes them again here,] saying, "And this too was for your sakes." ["I robbed other churches." Here he speaks reproachfully, but] what went before does not let these things appear burdensome. For he said, "Bear with me a little in my foolishness"; and before his other achievements he boasts first in this. For this is what worldly people seek above all, and those men of the opposite party too prided themselves on this. That is why he does not first launch into the account of his dangers, nor of his signs, but into that of his contempt for money, since they prided themselves on this; and at the same time he hints that they were rich.

And what is admirable in him is this: though he could have said that he also supported himself by his own hands, he did not say this, but says what most shamed them and was no praise of himself: that "I received from others," ["I robbed"], that is, I stripped them and made them poor. And what is greater, not for abundance, but for the need of necessities; for when he says "wages," he means necessary food. And what is harder still: "for your service." We preach to you, and though we ought to be supported by you, we enjoyed this from others. The charge is double, or rather triple: that while he was among them and serving them and seeking necessary food, he had others supplying him. And great is the superiority of these over those. For the one were in carelessness, the others in earnestness; the one sent to him even when he was far off, the others did not support him even when present.

Then, since he had attacked them vehemently, he gently relaxes again the vehemence of his rebuke, saying, "And when I was present with you and in need, I was a burden to no one" [2 Cor 11:9]. For he did not say, "You did not give to me," but, "I did not receive." For he still spares them; but nevertheless even in the softening of his words he strikes again unnoticed; for "being present" is very emphatic, and "in need." For so that they may not say, "What then, if you had enough?" he added, "and being in need I was a burden to no one." Here again he strikes them moderately, as contributing such a burden reluctantly, as being weighed down. Then the reason too, full of accusation and charged with jealousy. That is why he set it down not as his main point, but as if explaining where and from whom he was supported, so as to rouse them without suspicion again to the subject of almsgiving. "For what I lacked," he says, "the brothers who came from Macedonia supplied." Do you see how he stirs them again by bringing into view those who ministered to him? For having first led them to want to learn who they might be, he then names them as well; which also urged them on to almsgiving. For those who were beaten in not supporting the apostle he persuades not to be beaten in helping the poor as well. And he says this when writing to the Macedonians themselves: "For you sent to my needs once and again" [Phil 4:16], and "at the beginning of the gospel" [Phil 4:15]; which was the greatest praise of them, that they shone from the very beginning. But see how he everywhere speaks of his need, and nowhere of abundance. By saying, then, "when I was present" and "in need," he showed that he ought to have been supported by the Corinthians; but by saying, "the brothers supplied what I lacked," he shows that he did not even ask. And he gives a reason that is not the real one. What is this? That he received from others: "For what I lacked," he says, "those who came supplied." That is why he says, "I was a burden to no one," not because he lacked confidence. And yet he does it for this very reason, and shows it by what follows; but he does not say it plainly, but shadows it over, leaving it to the conscience of his hearers. And he shows it unnoticed by what follows, saying, "And in everything I kept myself from being burdensome to you, and I will keep myself." For do not think, he says, that I say these things in order to receive. And "I will keep myself" is heavier, if he no longer has confidence in them, but has utterly given up receiving anything from them. And he shows that they even thought this a burden; that is why he said, "I kept myself from being burdensome, and I will keep myself." He says this in the first letter too: "I have not written these things so that it may be done so in my case; for it would be better for me to die than that anyone should make my boasting void" [1 Cor 9:15]. And here again: "I kept myself from being burdensome to you, and I will keep myself."

Then, so that he may not seem to say this in order to draw them on the more, he says, "As the truth of Christ is in me" [2 Cor 11:10]. Do not think that I said this in order to receive, in order to draw you more; for "the truth is in me," he says, "that this boasting of mine will not be stopped in the regions of Achaia." For so that no one may think again that he is pained at this, or says it in anger, he calls the thing a boasting too. And in the first letter he contrived it in the same way. For so as not to strike them there either, he says, "What then is my reward? That in preaching the gospel I may make the gospel of Christ free of charge" [1 Cor 9:18]. And as there he calls it a reward, so here a boast, so that they may not be greatly ashamed at what is said, as not supplying one who asked. For what if you give? he says. But I do not accept. And "will not be stopped" is a metaphor from rivers, as his fame was flowing everywhere that he does not receive. You do not stop up my boldness by your giving. But he did not say, "You do not stop it up," which would have struck harder, but, "It will not be stopped in the regions of Achaia." This again was the part of one dealing a mortal blow, and very able to pull them down and grieve them, if indeed he refused them alone. For if he boasted, he ought to boast everywhere; but if among you alone, it is perhaps because of your weakness. So that they may not despond reasoning thus, see how he corrects it: "Why? Because I do not love you? God knows" [2 Cor 11:11]; quickly adding the solution, and in a way easy to accept. But nevertheless not even so did he free them from the charges. For he did not say, "You are not weak," nor that "you are strong," but, "because I love you"; which above all heightened the accusation against them. For it was from loving them greatly that he did not receive from them, since [they felt it a burden].

So he did opposite things out of love, both receiving and not receiving; and the opposition was due to the condition of the givers. And he did not say, "For this reason I do not receive, because I love you greatly," since that would have contained an accusation of their weakness and thrown them into perplexity; but he turned the word to another reason. What is this? "So that I may cut off the occasion from those who want an occasion, so that in what they boast of they may be found just as we are" [2 Cor 11:12]. For since they were looking to find some handle, he must remove this too. For this is the only thing in which they pride themselves. So that they may have nothing more, this too had to be set right; for in other things they were inferior. For nothing, as I said, so edifies worldly people as not receiving. The devil, then, being wicked, let down this bait above all, wishing to bring them down into other things. And this too seems to me to belong to hypocrisy. That is why he did not say, "in what they have achieved," but what? "in what they boast of"; which was the language of one scoffing at their boastfulness; for they boasted of what they did not even possess. But the noble man must not boast, not only of what he does not have, but not even of what he possesses; as this blessed man did, as the patriarch Abraham did, saying, "But I am earth and ashes" [Gen 18:27]. For since he could not speak of sins, but shone with achievements, having run round everywhere and found no great charge against himself, he flees to his nature; and since the name of earth is somehow honorable, he added that of ashes too. That is why another too said, "Why is earth and ashes proud?" [Sir 10:9].

For do not tell me of the bloom of the countenance, nor the neck held high, nor the cloak and the horse and the attendants; but reckon and add where all these things end. And if you speak of what appears, I too will tell you of the things in the Scriptures, which are far more glorious than these. But just as we do not admire those things for their appearance, seeing that their substance is all clay, so neither these. For these too are clay; or rather, even before being dissolved and becoming dust. Show me this man with the high neck in a fever, at his last gasp; and then I will talk with you, and ask what became of that great ornament, where the great flattery has gone, and the attendance of slaves, and the abundance of money and possessions, what wind has come in and blown everything away. But you will say that even lying on his bed he bears the tokens of his wealth and pride, a splendid robe laid on him, poor and rich escorting him, crowds praising him. Above all these too are a mockery; but even these are at once refuted, wasting away like a flower. For when we cross the threshold of the city gates, and return after handing the body over to the worms, I will ask again: where is that great crowd going? What has become of the shouting and the uproar? Where are the torches? Where are the choirs of women? Was it not all a dream? And what became of the cries? Where are those many mouths that shouted and bade him take courage, since no one is immortal? These things should not have been said now to one who does not hear, but when he was [plundering others], they should have said: "You must not be confident; no one is immortal; check your madness, quench your desire"; but "take courage" belongs to the one who is wronged. For to say such things to him now is the part of those who spare and who mock; for it is not for this that he ought now to be confident, but to fear and tremble. But even if this is said to him [to no purpose], let those of the rich who [suffer the same sickness] and follow him to the tomb hear it. For since before, through the drunkenness of their money, they think of nothing of the kind, at that moment, when even the sight of the one lying there confirms what is said, let them be sobered, let them be instructed, considering that a little later those who lead away will come for them too, to those dreadful accounts, and to pay the penalty for what they seized and what they took by greed.

"And what is this to the poor?" someone says. Above all this too is sweet to many, to see the wrongdoer punished. "But to us it is not sweet; what is sweet is not to suffer harm." I praise you greatly and approve, that you do not rejoice over others' calamities, but seek your own safety. Come, then, I will guarantee you this too. For if we suffer harm from men, we cut off no small part of our debt, if we bear what happens nobly. So we are not wronged; for God reckons the injury against our debt, not by the rule of justice, but by the rule of lovingkindness. That is why from of old too he did not avenge the one who suffered harm. "From where is this plain?" someone says. The Jews once suffered harm from the Babylonians, and God did not prevent it, but children and women were led away; but afterwards this captivity became for them a comfort in proportion to their sins. That is why he says to Isaiah, "Comfort, comfort my people, priests; speak to the heart of Jerusalem, that she has received from the hand of the Lord double for her sins" [Isa 40:1–2 LXX]; and again, "Give us peace, for you have rendered everything to us" [Isa 26:12 LXX]. And David says, "See my enemies, how many they have become, and forgive all my sins" [Ps 25:19, 18]. And when he bore with Shimei, he says, "Let him alone, so that the Lord may see my humiliation and repay me in return for this day" [2 Sam 16:11–12]. For when he does not avenge those who are wronged, it is then above all that we are helped; for it is reckoned to us as an achievement, if we bear it with thanksgiving.

So when you see a rich man robbing a poor man, leave the one who is wronged and weep for the robber. For the one puts off filth, the other rubs filth on himself. So it happened to the servant of Elisha in the case of Naaman [2 Kgs 5:20–27]; for even if he did not rob, yet to take by deceit is injustice. What then happened? With the injustice he took the leprosy as well; and the one who was wronged was benefited, while the one who did wrong is harmed most greatly. This happens now too in the case of the soul. And so great is this that this alone has often made God gracious; even if the one who suffers harm is unworthy of help, when he suffers it beyond measure, he draws God both to pardon him and to take vengeance on the wrongdoer from this alone. That is why God said of old to the barbarians, "I gave them up for a little, but they joined in to do evil" [Zech 1:15]; for this reason they will suffer incurable things. For there is nothing, there is nothing that so provokes God as robbing and violence and greed. Why? Because it is very easy to abstain from this sin. For it is not a natural desire that troubles us, but it comes from carelessness. "How then does the apostle call it a root of evils [1 Tim 6:10]?" I too say this; but the root is from us, not from the nature of the thing. And, if you wish, let us make a comparison and see which is more tyrannical, the desire of money or of bodies; for whichever is found to have cast down great men, that is the harder. Let us see, then, what great man the desire of money held. None; but pitiable men: Judas, the Jewish priests. But the desire of bodies overcame the great prophet David. And I say this not to give pardon to those caught by such desire, but rather to make them sober. For when I show the passion to be great, then above all I show them deprived of all pardon. For if you were ignorant of the beast, you could flee to this very excuse; but now, knowing it and falling in, you could have no defense. And after him, it took his son with a greater excess; and yet no one was wiser than he, and he went through all the rest of virtue; but nevertheless he was so vehemently caught by this that he received the blow in a vital part. And the father rose up and renewed the wrestling and was crowned again; but this one showed nothing of the kind. That is why Paul too said, "It is better to marry than to burn" [1 Cor 7:9]; and Christ, "He who is able to receive it, let him receive it" [Matt 19:12]. But about money it is not so, but: "Whoever has left his possessions will receive a hundredfold" [Matt 19:29].

"How then," someone says, "did he say of the rich that they will hardly attain the kingdom [Matt 19:23]?" Again hinting at their sluggishness, not at the tyranny of money, but at their excessive slavery to it. And this is plain from what Paul counseled. For he draws us away from that desire, saying, "But those who wish to be rich fall into temptation" [1 Tim 6:9]; but in the case of this other one, no longer, but having separated them only for a season, and that by agreement, [he brings them together] again on account of desire, lest it cause a grievous shipwreck [1 Cor 7:5]. This passion is also more vigorous than anger; for one cannot be angry when there is nothing provoking, but one must feel desire even when the sight that moves to it does not appear. That is why he did not cut anger off entirely, but added "without cause" [Matt 5:22]; nor did he remove desire itself, but the unjust kind: "For because of desires," he says, "let each man have his own wife" [1 Cor 7:2]. But to lay up treasure he allowed neither without cause nor with cause. For these passions were implanted in us for need: desire for the begetting of children, anger for helping those who are wronged; but the desire of money not at all. So the passion is not even natural. So when you are caught by it, you will suffer the more shameful things. For this very reason Paul, while permitting even a second marriage [1 Cor 7:39], demands great strictness about money, saying, "Why do you not rather suffer wrong? Why do you not rather let yourselves be defrauded?" [1 Cor 6:7]. And when discussing virginity he says, "I have no command of the Lord" [1 Cor 7:25], and, "I say this for your own benefit, not to lay a noose upon you" [1 Cor 7:35]; but when his discourse is about money, "Having coverings and food," he says, "with these we shall be content" [1 Tim 6:8].

"How then," someone says, "are many caught more by this?" Because they are not so arrayed against it as against licentiousness and sexual immorality. For if it seemed equally terrible, [the virgins] would not have been cast out of the bridal chamber [Matt 25:10–12], since, having cast down the greater antagonist, they were overthrown by the weaker one that is nothing. Besides this one may also say that if someone who masters desire is conquered by money, often he does not even master desire, but has received from nature not to be much troubled by it; for not all are equally prone to it. Knowing these things, then, and continually turning over among ourselves the example of the virgins, let us flee this evil beast. For if virginity profited them nothing, but they perished after countless labors and sweats because of love of money, who will rescue us if we fall into this passion? Therefore I exhort you to do everything so as neither to be caught nor, having been caught, to remain so, but to burst these grievous bonds. For so we shall be able to stand before heaven and to obtain the countless good things; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

["For such men are false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ"] [2 Cor 11:13]. What are you saying? Those who preach Christ, who do not take money, who do not bring in another gospel, are false apostles? Yes, he says; and for this very reason above all, because they feign all these things in order to deceive. "Deceitful workers." For they work, but [they pull up] what has been planted. For since they know that otherwise they would not be acceptable, they take the mask of truth and so play out the drama of error. "And yet," someone says, "they do not take money." So that they may take more, so that they may destroy a soul. Or rather, this too is a lie: they did take, but escaped notice; and he shows this in what follows. For he already hinted at it by saying, "so that in what they boast of they may be found just as we are"; but later he hinted at it more clearly, saying, "If anyone devours you, if anyone takes from you, if anyone exalts himself, you bear with him." But now he attacks them from another side, [showing that] the sheep's skin is laid over them [Matt 7:15].

"And no wonder; for Satan himself disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no great thing if his ministers also [disguise themselves as ministers of righteousness]" [2 Cor 11:14–15]. So if one must wonder, one must wonder at that, but at these no longer. For when their teacher dares everything, it is no wonder that the disciples follow. And what is "an angel of light"? One who has boldness to speak, who stands before God. For there are also angels of darkness, those of the devil, [and the devil disguises himself as] an angel of light. So these too carry about the form of an apostle, not the power itself; for they have no strength. And nothing is so devilish as doing anything for display. And what is "ministers of righteousness"? [What we are, who preach to you a gospel that has righteousness.] For either he says this, or that they put about themselves the reputation of righteous men. How then shall we recognize them? "By their works," as Christ said [Matt 7:16]. That is why he is compelled to set his own achievements and their wickedness side by side, so that by the comparison the bastards may appear. And being about to enter again on his own praises, he first accuses them, so as to show that his subject is a necessary one, so that no one may blame him as speaking about himself; and he says, "I say again" [2 Cor 11:16]. For he has already used much preliminary correction. But nevertheless I am not content with what has been said, but I say again: "let no one think me a fool." For this was their work, to boast when there was no cause. And consider, I pray you, that as often as he is about to enter on his own praises, he strikes a note beforehand. For the thing itself, boasting, is a matter of folly, he says; but I do it not as one acting foolishly, but as one compelled. "But if not, even if you condemn me" while seeing that it is a necessity, not even so will I refuse. Do you see how he showed that the necessity of speaking was great? For one who did not shrink even from this suspicion, consider what force he underwent to speak, and how he was in labor and was forced to speak. But nevertheless even so he handles the matter moderately. For he did not say, "so that I may boast," but "so that I may boast a little." And being about to boast, he again uses another plea for pardon, saying, "What I speak, I speak not according to the Lord, but as in foolishness, in this confidence of boasting" [2 Cor 11:17]. Do you see how boasting is not according to the Lord? "For when you have done everything," he says, "say, We are unprofitable servants" [Luke 17:10]. But in itself it is not according to the Lord; it becomes so from the intention. That is why he said, "What I speak," finding fault not with the cause but with the words. For the purpose is so wonderful as even to make the words honorable. For as the murderer, though among the very defiled, has often been approved because of his intention, and circumcision, though not according to the Lord, became so from the intention, so too with boasting. And why does he not use such exactness [of expression]? [Because] he hastens to something else, and out of abundance he gratifies even those who wish to find fault, only so that he may say what is profitable; for what was said was enough to remove all suspicion. "But as in foolishness." Before he said, "I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness"; but now, "as in foolishness." For the further he goes, the more he purifies his language. Then, so that you may not think he plays the fool everywhere, he added, "in this confidence of boasting": in this part, he says; as elsewhere he said, "lest we be put to shame," and added, "in this confidence of boasting" [2 Cor 9:4]. And elsewhere again, having said, "Or what I purpose, do I purpose according to the flesh, so that with me there should be Yes, yes and No, no?" [2 Cor 1:17] and having shown that he cannot everywhere fulfil what he promises, since he does not purpose according to the flesh, so that some might not drag this suspicion over to his doctrine too, he says, "But God is faithful, that our word to you was not Yes and No" [2 Cor 1:18].

And see how, having said so much before, he again sets down other pleas of defense as well, adding thus and saying, "Since many boast according to the flesh, I too will boast" [2 Cor 11:18]. What is "according to the flesh"? From outward things: from noble birth, from wealth, from wisdom, from having circumcision and Hebrew ancestors, from the glory of the many. And see his wisdom: he sets down those things which he shows to be nothing, and then calls it folly too. For if boasting even of things truly good is folly, much more of things that are nothing. And this is what he calls "not according to the Lord." For there is no profit in being a Hebrew and all such things. Do not, then, think that I set these down as a virtue; but since those men boast, I too am compelled to make the comparison from this; which he does elsewhere too, saying, "If anyone thinks he has confidence in the flesh, I more" [Phil 3:4]. And there too it was because of those who had confidence in this. As if someone of illustrious family, having chosen the life of philosophy, were to see others priding themselves on noble birth, and wishing to pull down their swelling were compelled to tell of his own distinction, not to adorn himself but to humble them. This is what Paul does too.

Then, leaving those men, he empties the whole charge on the Corinthians, saying, "For you gladly bear with fools" [2 Cor 11:19]. So you are the cause of these things, and more than they. For if you did not bear with them, and were not harmed so far as it depended on them, I would have said nothing; but I care for your salvation, and I condescend. And see how he puts the rebuke too with praise. For having said, "You gladly bear with fools," he added, "being wise yourselves." For boasting, and that in such things, belongs to folly. And yet he ought to have rebuked them and said, "Do not bear with the senseless"; but he does it with greater abundance. For in that way he would have seemed to rebuke them as one deprived of these things; but now, having shown himself superior in these things too, and counting them nothing, [he more effectively] corrects them. But for now, before entering on his praises and the comparison, he reproaches the Corinthians for their great servility, that they submitted to those men beyond measure. And consider how he ridicules them: "For you bear with it," he says, "if anyone devours you" [2 Cor 11:20]. How then did you say, "so that in what they boast of they may be found just as we are"? Do you see that he shows them taking, and not simply taking, but beyond measure? For "devours" shows this. "If anyone enslaves you." Your money, he says, and your bodies, and your freedom, you have surrendered. For this is greater than taking: to be masters not only of your money but of yourselves. Which he shows earlier too, saying, "If others share this authority over you, do not we much more?" [1 Cor 9:12]. Then he adds what is harsher, saying, "if anyone exalts himself." For your slavery is not even moderate, nor are your masters gentle, but burdensome and oppressive. "If anyone strikes you in the face." Do you see again the intensity of the tyranny? He said this not because they were struck in the face, but because those men spat on them and dishonored them; that is why he added, "I speak by way of dishonor" [2 Cor 11:21]. For you suffer no less than those who are struck in the face. What then could be stronger than this? What tyranny could be more bitter than this, when, having taken away your money and your freedom and your honor, they are not even so gentle, nor let you remain in the rank of slaves, but have got you as though you were less than any bought slave?

"As though we were weak." What is said is obscure. For since it was burdensome, he set it down so, in order to steal away its offensiveness by obscurity. For what he means to say is this: Can we not do these things too? But we do not. Why then do you bear with them, as though we were not able to do these things? It is a charge, then, even to bear with those who play the fool; but to bear with those who despise you so, who rob you, who exalt themselves, who strike you, would have no defense, nor any reason. For this kind of deceit is new. For deceivers both give and flatter; but these both deceive and take and insult. Hence you could not have even a shadow of pardon, since you [spit on] those who humble themselves for your sakes so that you may be exalted, [and admire those who exalt themselves so that you may be humbled]. For could we not do these things too? But we do not wish to, looking to your advantage. For those men, pulling down your affairs, look to their own. Do you see how everywhere, from the very things in which he speaks boldly to them, he also frightens them? For if for this reason [you honor them, because they strike and insult you,] we too [can] do these things, enslave, strike, [exalt ourselves].

Do you see how he brings the whole cause both of their arrogance and of his own seeming folly upon the Corinthians? For not to show myself more glorious, but to free you from this bitter slavery, I am compelled to boast a little. And one must not simply examine what is said, but also add the cause. For Samuel too composed a great praise of himself when he anointed Saul, saying, "Whose ass have I taken from you, or calf, or sandal? Or whom of you have I oppressed?" [1 Sam 12:3]. But nevertheless no one blames him. And the reason is that he did not say it to adorn himself, but since he was about to set up a king, he wished, in the form of a defense, to teach him to be meek and gentle. And consider the wisdom of the prophet, or rather of God: [since he wished to turn them from their purpose], he gathered many burdensome things and spoke of the one who was to reign, for instance that he would make their wives grinders at the mill and their men shepherds and keepers of mules [1 Sam 8:11–17] (for he went through the service of the kingdom with exactness); but since he saw that they were not hindered by any of these things, but were incurably sick, even so he spares them and trains the king to be meek. That is why he brings him forward as a witness too. For no one was then going to law with him or accusing him so that he must defend himself; but he said these things in order to make the king better. That is why he added, pulling down his swelling: "If you and your king listen, good things will be yours; but if you do not listen, all the opposite" [1 Sam 12:14–15]. And Amos said, "I was not [a prophet], ... [but a herdsman] scraping sycamore figs, and God took me" [Amos 7:14–15]. And he said this not exalting himself, but stopping the mouths of those who suspected him as no prophet, and to show that he does not deceive, nor say from himself what he says. And another again, showing this same thing, said, "But I am filled with the strength of the Lord, in spirit and power" [Mic 3:8]. And David too, when he told of the bear and the lion [1 Sam 17:34–36], spoke not to adorn himself, but building up something great and wonderful. For since it was not believed that he, naked, would prevail over the barbarian, who could not even carry armor, he was compelled to supply proofs of his own courage. And when he cut off the skirt of Saul's robe [1 Sam 24:4–11], he did not say what he said to show off, but because they said that he wished to kill him. One must, then, seek the cause everywhere. For one who looks to the advantage of his hearers, even if he praises himself, deserves not only not to be blamed, but to be crowned; and if he keeps silent then, he deserves to be blamed. For if David had kept silent then about Goliath, they would not have allowed him to go out to the battle, nor would he have set up that glorious trophy. That is why he says this under compulsion, and not to his brothers but to the king; for with them he would have been disbelieved; for envy stopped their ears. That is why [leaving them, he speaks to the one who did not yet envy him].

For jealousy is a terrible thing, terrible, and persuades men even to despise their own salvation. So Cain destroyed himself [Gen 4:3–8], and before him again the devil, who destroyed Cain's father. So Saul called down an evil demon against his own soul; and when it had been driven away, he was again jealous of the physician [1 Sam 18:10–11]. For such is envy: he knew that he had been saved, and he would rather perish than see his savior honored. What could be harder than this passion? One would not be wrong to call it the offspring of the devil; and in the one case it is the fruit of vainglory, or rather even its root; for both these evils are accustomed to produce each other. So too [Saul envied] David [when they sang of his] ten thousands [1 Sam 18:7–8]; what could be more unreasonable than this? For why, tell me, are you envious because so-and-so was praised? You ought to rejoice; and besides, you do not even know if the praise is true. And do you mourn for this, that he was praised though he is not admirable? You ought rather to pity him. For if he is good, no one envies him when he is praised, but praises him together with those who applaud; but if he is not such, why are you stung? Why do you thrust the sword against yourself? Because he is admired by men? But by men who are here today and tomorrow are not. But he enjoys glory? What kind, tell me? That of which the prophet says that it is the flower of grass [Isa 40:6]? Do you envy, then, because you do not carry a burden, nor carry about such loads of grass? But if he seems to you enviable for this, why not also the woodcutters who carry loads every day and come into the city? For this burden is no better than theirs, but even worse. For that presses on the body only; but this often harms the soul as well, and has given more anxiety than pleasure. For even if he is well approved in speaking, he has greater fear than praise; or rather, the praise is short, but the fear is lasting. But he is well approved with rulers? There again are envy and danger. For what you feel toward him, many others feel too. But he is continually praised? This makes a bitter slavery. For he will not dare to do anything freely according to his own mind, so as not to offend those who glorify him; for his distinction is a grievous chain to him. So the more people he is known to, the more masters he has, and his slavery is intensified, since his lords appear everywhere. And the house-slave, when he gets out of his master's sight, breathes again and is wholly free; but this man meets masters everywhere; for he is the slave of all who appear in the market place. And even if some necessity presses, he does not dare to go into the market place unless his servants follow and his horse, and all the rest of the show is put together, so that his masters may not condemn him. And if he sees one of his genuine friends, he does not dare to talk with him on equal terms; for he fears his masters, lest they pull him down from his glory. So the more distinguished he is, the more he is enslaved. And if he suffers anything unpleasant, the insult is harsher, the more witnesses he has and the more the thing seems beneath his dignity. And not only the insult, but misfortune as well. For he has many who rejoice over it; as also, if he enjoys some good, he has more who envy and grudge and are eager to pull him down. Is this a good thing, tell me? Is this glory? Not at all; but disgrace and slavery and chains and whatever burdensome thing one could name. And if even so the glory that comes from men is desirable to you, and so-and-so, applauded by many, greatly troubles you, when you see him enjoying the applause, pass over in thought to the age to come and to the glory there; and as, when you hasten to escape a wild beast that attacks, you go into a little room and shut the doors, so now flee to the life to come and to that unspeakable glory. For so you will both trample on this glory and easily lay hold of that one, and enjoy true freedom and the eternal good things; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages.

"But in whatever anyone is bold (I speak in foolishness), I am bold too" [2 Cor 11:21]. See him again drawing back, and using a plea for pardon and a correction beforehand; though already [he had said much: "Bear with me a little] in my foolishness"; and again, "Let no one think me a fool; but if you do, receive me even as a fool"; and, "Since many boast according to the flesh, I too will boast"; and here again, "But in whatever anyone is bold, I speak in foolishness, I am bold too." He calls saying something great about oneself boldness and folly, and that when there is necessity, teaching us abundantly to flee such a thing. For if after doing everything we must call ourselves unprofitable [Luke 17:10], what pardon would one deserve who exalts himself and brags when no cause presses? That is why the Pharisee suffered what he suffered [Luke 18:10–14], and suffered shipwreck in the harbor, because he dashed against this rock. That is why Paul too, though he saw countless necessity, nevertheless draws back and continually reminds them that such a thing belongs to folly. And then at last he ventures on it, putting forward the defense of necessity, and says, "Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I" [2 Cor 11:22]. For not all Hebrews were Israelites, since the Ammonites [and Moabites were Hebrews. So he added something to make clear] his noble birth, and he says, "Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I." "Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as beside myself) I more" [2 Cor 11:23]. He was not content with the former plea for pardon, but uses it again here: "I speak as beside myself, I more." I am stronger and better than they. And yet he had clear proofs of his superiority; but nevertheless he even so calls the thing madness. And surely, if they were false apostles, he ought not to have introduced his superiority by comparison, but to have denied that they were ministers at all. He did deny it, by saying, "false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ"; but now he does not do it so; for his discourse was going to proceed to a test. And no one, when there is no test, simply declares; but first, by setting down the refutation through facts in the form of a comparison, he shows it to be very firm. Besides, he sets down their own opinion, not his own declaration, in saying, "Are they ministers of Christ?" And having said, "I more," he carries on the comparison, and shows how, not by declaring but by bringing in the proof through deeds, he preserves the character of an apostle.

And leaving aside all the signs, he begins from his trials, saying thus: "In labors more abundantly, in stripes [above measure]." This is greater than that: both to be wounded and to be scourged. "In prisons more abundantly." And here again there is an increase. "In deaths often." "For I die daily," he says [1 Cor 15:31]. But here it is in deed too; for often I was handed over to dangers that held death. "From the Jews five times I received forty lashes less one" [2 Cor 11:24]. Why "less one"? There was an old law that one who [received] more than forty [lashes] was dishonored among them [Deut 25:3]. So that the force and impetus of the one striking might not carry him beyond the number and make the man dishonored, they fixed that he should be struck forty less one; so that even if the striker went too far, he might not exceed the forty, but, remaining within the customary number, might not dishonor the one being struck. "Three times [I was beaten with rods; once I was stoned; three times I suffered shipwreck; thrice I suffered shipwreck]" [2 Cor 11:25]. And what is this to the gospel? Because I have made long journeys [by sea]. ["A night and a day I have spent in the deep."] Some say this means in the middle of the sea, others, as one swimming; which is truer to say. That at any rate is no matter for wonder, nor would he have set it down as greater than the shipwrecks. "In dangers of rivers." For he was compelled to cross rivers too. "In dangers of robbers, in dangers in the city, in dangers in the wilderness." Everywhere the contests lay before me, in places, in countries, in cities, in deserts. "In dangers from the Gentiles, in dangers among false brothers." See another kind of war. For not only enemies, but those who feigned brotherhood also struck at him; and he needed great vigor and great understanding. "In labor and toil" [2 Cor 11:27]. Dangers followed toils and toils dangers, one upon another and continually, and did not allow him to take breath even a little. "In journeys often, in hunger and thirst and nakedness. Besides what is outside" [2 Cor 11:28]. The things left out are more than those counted; or rather, it is not possible to say even how many those counted were; for he did not set them down by kind, but where the number was easy to grasp and small, he mentioned these, saying "three times" and "three times" and "once"; but the rest no longer so, because he had endured them often. And he does not mention the achievements that came from them, for instance that he converted so many and so many, but only what he suffered for the preaching; at once being moderate and showing that even if nothing is achieved, there is something more for the one who toils; for so the rewards are filled up.

"That which presses on me daily": the uproars, the disturbances, the sieges of crowds, and the onsets of cities. For the Jews warred against him most of all, since he confounded them most of all, and was the greatest refutation of their madness, [since he changed sides all at once. And a great war breathed against him,] from his own, by strangers, by those who feigned; and everywhere waves and precipices, in the inhabited world and the uninhabited, on land, on sea, from without, from within. And he did not even have plenty of necessary food, nor a bare covering; but the athlete of the world contended naked and [fought hungry]. And he was not vexed, but gave thanks to the president of the games. "The care of all the churches." This is the chief of all, that his soul was torn and his mind cut in pieces. For even if nothing from outside had assailed him, the war within was enough: the waves one upon another, the snowstorms of cares, the war of thoughts. For if someone who provides for one house, and has servants and stewards and managers, often cannot even breathe for his cares, though there is no one troubling him, consider what this man endured, who had the care not of one house but of cities and peoples and nations and the whole world, and over such great matters, and with so many attacking him, and being alone, and suffering so much, and caring for them as not even a father for his children. For so that you may not say, "What if he was anxious, but only so-so?" he added the intensity of his care, saying, "Who is weak, and I am not weak?" [2 Cor 11:29]. He did not say, "I share in his despondency," but, as though I were in the very passion, in the very sickness, so I am troubled and disturbed. "Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?" See again the excess of his pain, how it is present in the word "burning." I am set on fire, he says; which was greater than all. For those other things, even if vehement, nevertheless passed quickly and had a pleasure that did not fade; but this was what afflicted and straitened him and pierced his mind through, suffering such things for each of the weak, whoever he might be. For he did not grieve for the greater ones and despise the lesser, but counted even the outcast among those dear to him. That is why he said, "Who is weak?" showing that it was whoever it might be. And as though he himself were the church throughout the world, so he felt pain for each member.

"If I must boast, I will boast of the things that concern my weakness" [2 Cor 11:30]. Do you see that he nowhere boasts of signs, but of persecutions and trials? For this, he says, belongs to weakness. And he shows the war to be manifold. For the Jews warred against him, and the Gentiles stood against him, and the false brothers boxed with him, and the brothers grieved him by their weakness [and their stumbling; everywhere there was trouble] and disturbance, from his own, from strangers. This is the apostolic character; through these things the gospel is woven. "The God and Father of the Lord Jesus knows that I do not lie. In Damascus the ethnarch of King Aretas guarded the city of the Damascenes, wishing to seize me" [2 Cor 11:31–32]. Why does he confirm and affirm this here, though he did this in none of the earlier things? Because perhaps this was older and less known; but those were known to them, the care of the churches and all the rest. See then how great the war was, if indeed he guarded the city because of him. And when I say the war, I mean Paul's zeal; for if he had not breathed vehemently, he would not have kindled the ethnarch to such madness. These things belong to an apostolic soul: to suffer so much and nowhere be overturned, but to bear nobly what befalls, and not to rush to meet dangers nor leap upon them. See, at any rate, how here he consented to escape the siege, "let down in a basket through a window" [2 Cor 11:33]. For even if he desired to depart from here [Phil 1:23], nevertheless he also loved the salvation of men. That is why he often contrived such things, keeping himself for the preaching; and he did not refuse even to use human contrivances when the occasion demanded; so sober and watchful was he. For where the evils were inescapable, there was need of grace alone; but where the trial was moderate, he devises many things of himself too; and here again reckoning the whole to God. And as a spark of unquenchable fire, falling into the sea, might be submerged when many waves came on, and rise up again bright, so the blessed Paul now was buried in dangers, now, slipping through them, [came up more radiant, conquering by suffering harm].

For this is the glorious victory, this the trophy of the church; so the devil is struck down, when we suffer harm. For when we suffer, he is caught, and suffers harm when he wishes to inflict it on us. Which happened in Paul's case too; and the greater the dangers he brought, the more he was defeated. For he did not contrive one kind of trial only, but a varied and manifold one. For some had toil, some despondency, some fear, some pain, some care, some shame, some all of these together; but nevertheless in all he prevailed. And as a single soldier who had the whole world making war on him might turn about in the midst of the enemy's ranks and suffer nothing terrible, so Paul too, alone among barbarians and Greeks, appearing everywhere on land and everywhere on sea, remained unconquered. And as a spark falling into straw and hay transforms what is burning into its own nature, so he too, attacking all, brought all over to the truth, coming on all things like a torrent and overturning the obstacles. And like an athlete himself wrestling, running, boxing, or a soldier storming walls, fighting on foot, fighting at sea, so he went through every kind of battle, and breathed fire, and was unapproachable to all; taking the world with one body, putting all to flight with one tongue. The many trumpets did not so fall upon the stones of the city of Jericho and pull them down [Josh 6:20] as this man's voice, sounding, both throws to the ground the strongholds of the devil and brings over his opponents to himself. And when he had gathered a multitude of captives, arming these very men he made them again his own army, and through them prevailed wonderfully. David brings down Goliath with one stone only [1 Sam 17:49]; but if you examine Paul's achievements, that is a boy's work, and you will see as great a difference as between a shepherd and a general. For this man brought down Goliath not by throwing a stone, but by only speaking he broke up the whole phalanx of the devil; and like a roaring lion, sending out flame from his tongue, so he was unbearable to all, and leapt about everywhere continually: he ran to these, came to those, passed over to these, leapt off to others, coming on swifter than the wind, and steering the whole world as one house or one ship, drawing up those who were sinking, steadying those who were dizzy, [giving orders] to the sailors, watching the prow, stretching ropes, handling the oar, hauling the mast, looking to heaven; being everything himself, both sailor and pilot and lookout and sail and ship, and suffering everything, so that he might undo the evils of others.

Consider: he underwent shipwreck, so as to end the shipwreck of the world; he spent a night and a day in the deep, so as to draw people up from the deep of error; he was in toil, so as to give rest to those who toil; he endured stripes, so as to heal those struck by the devil; he passed time in prisons, so as to lead out into light those who sit in prison and darkness; in deaths often, so as to free them from grievous deaths; five times he received forty lashes less one, so as to free those who did this very thing; [three times he was beaten with rods], so as to bring them under the rod and staff of Christ [Ps 23:4]; he was stoned, so as to free them from senseless stones; he was in the wilderness, so as to take them out of the wilderness; in journeys, so as to stop those who wander and to open the way that leads to heaven; he was in danger in cities, so as to show them the city above; in hunger and thirst, so as to take them away from a more grievous hunger; in nakedness, so as to clothe those in shame with the robe of Christ; under the onset of the crowd, so as to lead them away from the besieging of demons; he was set on fire, so as to quench the fiery darts of the devil [Eph 6:16]; he was let down through a window from the wall, so as to send up from below those who were cast down on the ground.

Shall we still speak, then, who do not even know what Paul suffered? Shall we still remember money? Still wife and city and freedom, when we have seen him despise life itself ten thousand times? The martyr dies once; but that blessed man in one body and one soul endured so many dangers as could disturb even a soul of adamant; and what all the saints suffered in so many bodies, he himself bore all in one; and as though entering the whole world as a stadium, and stripping himself against all, so he stood nobly. For he knew the demons who boxed with him. That is why he appeared glorious straightway from the beginning; from the very starting line to the end he remained the same; or rather he even intensified the pursuit as he came near the prize. And what is wonderful is that, suffering and doing so much, he knew how to be exceedingly moderate. For when he fell into the necessity of recounting his own achievements, he quickly ran past them all; and yet he would have filled countless books if he had wished to unfold each of the things mentioned, and had told of the churches he cared for, of the prisons and the achievements in them, and of the other circumstances and onsets day by day. But he did not wish to. Knowing these things, then, let us too learn to be moderate, and never to boast in wealth nor in the other things of this life, but in the insults suffered for Christ, and in these only when there is necessity; so that if nothing presses, let us not even mention these, so as not to be puffed up, but only our sins. For so we shall be freed from them easily, and shall have God gracious, and shall obtain the life to come; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

["It is not profitable for me, doubtless, to boast; for I will come to visions and revelations] of the Lord" [2 Cor 12:1]. "It is not profitable for me," he says. As though he had said nothing? Not as though he had said nothing; but since he is about to pass on to another kind of boasting, which does not have so great a reward, but seems to the many, not to those who examine carefully, to show him more glorious, he says, "It is not profitable for me to boast." For the great boasts were those he enumerated, those of his trials; but he has other things to tell too, those of revelations, those of unspeakable mysteries. And why does he say, "It is not profitable for me"? "So that it may not lift me up to arrogance," he means. What are you saying? If you do not tell them, do you not know them? But we are not lifted up in the same way when we know them ourselves as when we publish them to others. For it is not the nature of good deeds that usually lifts men up, but the testimony and knowledge of the many. That is why he says, "It is not profitable for me," and also so as not to put into his hearers a greater idea about himself. For those false apostles said even things that were not true about themselves; but this man hides even what is true, and that with so great a necessity pressing; and he says, "It is not profitable for me," teaching all in great abundance to flee such a thing. For the thing has no gain, but even harm, unless some necessary and useful pretext leads one to it. Having spoken, then, of the dangers, the trials, the plots, the despondencies, the shipwrecks, he passes to another kind of boasting, saying, "I know a man in Christ, fourteen years ago (whether in the body, I do not know, or out of the body, I do not know; God knows), such a one caught up to the third heaven. And I know that such a man (whether in the body or out of the body, I do not know, God knows) was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter. Of such a one I will boast; but of myself I will not boast" [2 Cor 12:2–5]. This was a great revelation. But it was not the only one; there were many others too; but he sets down one out of many. For that there were many, hear what he says: ["And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations"] [2 Cor 12:7]. "And yet," one might say, "if he wished to hide it, he ought not to have given a riddle at all, nor to have said any such thing; but if he wished to speak, he ought to have spoken clearly." Why then did he neither speak clearly nor keep silent? So as to show here too that he comes to the matter unwillingly. That is why he set down the time too, the fourteen years. For he does not mention it idly, but to show that one who had held out for so long a time would not have spoken out now if the necessity had not been great, but would have kept silent, if he had not seen the brothers perishing. And if from the beginning Paul was such as to be counted worthy of such a revelation, when he did not yet have such achievements, consider how great he had become in fourteen years. And see how in this very thing too he is moderate, by stating some things and confessing that he does not know others. For he said that he was caught up; but whether in the body or not in the body he says he no longer knows. And yet it was enough, having spoken of the rapture, to keep silent; but now, out of moderation, he adds this too. What then? Was the mind caught up and the soul, while the body remained dead? Or was the body caught up? It is not possible to say. For if Paul, the one who was caught up and obtained such and so many unspeakable things, did not know, much less do we. For that he was in paradise he knew, and that he was in the third heaven he was not ignorant; but the manner he did not know clearly. And consider his freedom from pride from another side too. For in the case of the city of the Damascenes he confirms his word with an oath, but here no longer; for he did not wish to establish it strongly, but only to mention it and hint at it. That is why he adds, "Of such a one I will boast"; not showing that the one caught up was someone else, but he so shapes his word as far as was possible, so as both to speak and to avoid speaking openly about himself. For what sequence would there be in bringing someone else forward while speaking about himself? Why then did he set it down so? It was not the same to say, "I was caught up," and "I know one who was caught up"; and "I boast of myself," and "Of such a one I will boast." And if anyone says, "And how is it possible to be caught up without a body?" I will ask him, "And how is it possible to be caught up with a body?" For this is more perplexing than that, if you examine with reasonings and do not yield to faith. And why was he caught up? So that he might not seem, as I think, to have less than the other apostles. For since they had been with Christ, but he not at all, for this reason [Christ] caught him up too into paradise in glory. For great is the name of this place, and it was celebrated everywhere.

That is why Christ too said, "Today you will be with me in paradise" [Luke 23:43]. "Of such a one I will boast." Why? For if another was caught up, why do you boast? From this it is plain that he said these things about himself. And if he added, "But of myself I will not boast," he says nothing else than that, when there is no necessity, I will say nothing of the kind idly and at random; or he again shadows over what had been said, as far as was possible. For that the whole discourse was about himself, what follows also shows; for he added, saying, "For if I wish to boast, I shall not be a fool, for I will speak the truth" [2 Cor 12:6]. How then did you say before, "I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness," and, "What I speak, I speak not according to the Lord, but as in foolishness," while here you say, "For if I wish to boast, I shall not be a fool"? Not with regard to boasting, but with regard to lying; for if boasting belongs to folly, how much more lying? In this respect, then, he says, "I shall not be a fool." That is why he added, "For I will speak the truth. But I refrain, lest anyone should think of me above what he sees me to be or hears from me." This is the acknowledged reason; for they even thought them gods because of the greatness of their signs [Acts 14:11–13; 28:6]. As, then, in the case of the elements God did both, making them weak and bright, the one to proclaim his power, the other to prevent the error of men, so too here they were both wonderful and weak, so that unbelievers might be taught through the deeds themselves. For if they had remained only wonderful and borne no sign of weakness, and by word drew the many away from suspecting more about them than the truth, not only would they have accomplished nothing, but they would even have brought about the opposite. For their refusals in words would have seemed rather to be humility, and would have caused them to be admired more. That is why their weakness was disclosed in deed and in fact. And one may see this in the case of the men of the Old Covenant. For Elijah was wonderful, but he was once convicted of cowardice [1 Kgs 19:3]; and Moses was great, but he too fled because of this very passion [Exod 2:15]. And they suffered these things when God stood aside and allowed human nature to be exposed. For if, because he had led them out, they say, "Where is Moses?" [Exod 32:1], if he had also led them in, what would they not have said? That is why he himself says, "I refrain, lest anyone should think of me." He did not say "say," but "so that no one may even think anything greater than my worth." So from this too it is plain that the whole discourse is about himself. That is why at the beginning he said, "It is not profitable for me to boast." He would not have said this if he had been going to say what he said about another; for why is it not profitable to boast about another? But he himself was the one counted worthy of these things.

That is why he adds, saying, "And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me" [2 Cor 12:7]. What are you saying? He who thought the kingdom nothing, nor hell, compared with his longing for Christ, thought honor from the many something, so as even to be puffed up and to need a continual bridle? For he did not say, "that he might buffet me," but "to buffet me" continually. And who would say this? What, then, is meant? When we have uncovered what the thorn is and who the messenger of Satan is, then we shall say this too. Some have said that he means a headache caused by the devil; but God forbid. For the body of Paul would not have been given over into the devil's hands, when the devil himself obeyed Paul at a bare command, and he laid down laws and limits for him, when he handed over the man who had committed sexual immorality "for the destruction of the flesh" [1 Cor 5:5]. What, then, is meant? Satan is called the adversary in the Hebrew tongue; and in the third book of Kingdoms Scripture called adversaries so, and narrating about Solomon it says, "There was no satan in his days" [1 Kgs 5:4], that is, no adversary, making war or troubling him. What he says, then, is this: God did not allow the preaching to go forward [unhindered], humbling our pride, but allowed the adversaries to attack us. For this was enough to pull down pride, but that other thing, the headache, no longer. By a messenger of Satan, then, he means Alexander the coppersmith [2 Tim 4:14], the party of Hymenaeus and Philetus [2 Tim 2:17], all who opposed the word, those who contended with him and beat him and led him away; since they did the work of Satan. As, then, he calls the Jews sons of the devil, since they emulated his deeds [John 8:44], so too he calls everyone who opposed him a messenger of Satan. This, then, is what he says: "A thorn was given me, to buffet me"; not as though God armed such men (God forbid), nor as though he punished or took vengeance, but as allowing it and letting them be for the present.

"Concerning this I besought the Lord three times [that it might depart from me]" [2 Cor 12:8]. This too belongs to great humility, not to hide that he could not bear the plots, that he grew weary, and needed prayer for deliverance. "And he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness" [2 Cor 12:9]. That is: it is enough for you that you raise the dead, that you heal the blind, that you cleanse lepers, that you work the other wonders; do not seek also to preach without danger and without fear and without trouble. But are you pained and despondent? Let it not seem to be a mark of my weakness that there are many who plot against you and beat you and drive you out and scourge you; for this very thing shows my power. "For my power," he says, "is made perfect in weakness": when, being persecuted, you prevail over your persecutors; when, being driven out, you master those who drive you out; when, being bound, you put to flight those who bind you. Do not, then, seek what is superfluous. Do you see how he himself gives one reason and God another? For he says, "So that I might not be exalted above measure, a thorn in the flesh was given me"; but he says that God said that he allows this in order to show his own power. So you are not only seeking something superfluous, but something that even darkens the glory of my power. For "is sufficient for you" is the language of one who shows that nothing else ought to be added, but that the whole is complete. So from this too it is plain that he does not mean a headache. For they did not preach while sick (for they could not preach while ill), but [the point is] that being driven out and persecuted they prevailed over all.

"Most gladly, therefore," since I have heard these things, he says, "I will rather boast in my weaknesses." For so that they may not be cast down, since those false apostles [prided themselves] on the opposite, he shows that through this he becomes more glorious, and that so the power of God shines out more, and what happens is worthy of boasting. That is why he says, "Most gladly, therefore, I will boast." Not grieving have I said these things which I enumerated, or this which I have said now, that "a thorn was given me," but priding myself on them and drawing more power. That is why he adds, "so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Here he hints at something else too: that the more the trials intensified, the more grace increased and remained. "Therefore I take pleasure in weaknesses" [2 Cor 12:10]. What sort, tell me? "In insults, in persecutions, in necessities, in distresses." Do you see how he has now revealed it most clearly? For in speaking of the kind of weakness, he did not say fevers, or some such recurring fit, or any other bodily sickness, but insults, persecutions, distresses. Do you see a grateful soul? He desired to be freed from the terrible things; but when he heard from God that this must not happen, not only was he not despondent at failing in his prayer, but he even rejoiced. That is why he said, "I take pleasure": I rejoice, I desire to be insulted, persecuted, distressed for Christ. He said these things both to put down those men and to lift up the spirits of these, so that they might not be ashamed of Paul's sufferings. For the cause was enough to make anything more glorious. Then he sets down another reason too: "For when I am weak, then I am strong." Why do you wonder if the power of God is then displayed? I too am then strong; for then above all grace came upon me. "For as his sufferings abound, so our comfort also abounds" [2 Cor 1:5]. Where there is affliction, there is comfort too; where there is comfort, there is grace too. At any rate, when he fell into prison, then he did those wonderful things [Acts 16:25–34]; when he was shipwrecked and cast up on the barbarian land, then above all he was glorified [Acts 28:1–10]; when he went into the court bound, then he prevailed even over the judge [Acts 26:28]. So it happened in the Old Covenant too: in trials the righteous flourished; so the three youths, so Daniel, and Moses, and Joseph: all became glorious from this and were counted worthy of great crowns. For then the soul too is purified, when it is afflicted for God's sake; then it enjoys greater help, needing more support and being worthy of more grace. And even before the reward laid up with God it reaps great good things by becoming philosophical. For affliction strips off pride, cuts off all sluggishness, anoints for endurance; it uncovers the meanness of human affairs and brings in much philosophy. For all the passions give way to it: envy, jealousy, desire, love of power, love of money and of bodies, boastfulness, pride, anger, the whole remaining swarm of these diseases. And if you wish to see it in actual cases, both in a man privately and in a whole people, I can show you them both in affliction and in ease, and teach you how great the gain from the one is and how great the slackness from the other.

For the people of the Hebrews, when they were ill-treated and driven out, groaned and called upon God, [but when] they grew fat, they kicked [Deut 32:15]. The Ninevites again, when they enjoyed security, so provoked God that he threatened to tear up the whole city from its foundations; but when they were humbled by that preaching, they showed all philosophy [Jonah 3]. And if you wish to see a man by himself, consider Solomon. For he, when he was in cares and trouble, deliberating about ruling that nation, was counted worthy of that vision [1 Kgs 3:5]; but when he came to luxury, he slipped into the very pit of wickedness [1 Kgs 11:1–8]. And what of his father? When was he wonderful and marvelous? Was it not when he was in trials? And Absalom, as long as he was in flight, was he not sober, but when he returned, he became a tyrant and a parricide [2 Sam 15]? And what of Job? He was glorious even in ease, but appeared more glorious after the affliction. And why need one speak of ancient and old things? For if one examines our own affairs now, he will see how great is the [gain] of affliction. For now, enjoying peace, we have grown slack and dissolute, and have filled the church with countless evils; but when we were persecuted, we were more sober and gentler and more earnest, and readier for these assemblies and for hearing. For what fire is to gold, affliction is to souls, scouring off the filth, making them pure [and bright]. This leads into the kingdom, but that into hell. That is why the one way is broad and the other narrow [Matt 7:13–14]. That is why he himself said, "In the world you will have affliction" [John 16:33], as laying up some great good for us. If, then, you are a disciple, travel the narrow and afflicted way, and do not be vexed nor lose heart. For even if you are not afflicted in this way, you must certainly be afflicted from another, profitless cause. For the envious man, and the lover of money, and the one burning for a harlot, and the vainglorious, and each of the others who pursue wicked things, endure many despondencies and afflictions, and are afflicted no less than mourners. And if he does not weep or mourn, it is through shame and insensibility; for if you examined his soul, you would see it full of countless waves. When, then, those who follow this life and that must be afflicted, why do we not choose this one, which with affliction brings countless crowns? For God led all the saints so, through affliction and distress, at once benefiting them and securing the rest, so that they might not have a greater opinion of them than they deserved. For so idolatries prevailed in the beginning, when men were admired beyond their worth; so the Roman senate thought Alexander a thirteenth god. For it had this power, to vote and enroll gods. At any rate, when all the things concerning Christ were reported, the ruler of the nation sent to ask whether they thought fit to vote him a god as well. But they did not assent, being angry and indignant that before their vote and judgment the power of the Crucified had [taken possession of] the whole world. And this was arranged even against their will, so that the divinity of Christ might not be proclaimed by human vote, nor he be thought one of the many voted [gods] by them. For they thought even boxers gods, and Hadrian's favorite; that is why the city is called Antinous. For since death testifies to a mortal nature, the devil found another way, the immortality of the soul, and mixing with it excessive flattery, led many away into impiety. And see his wickedness: when we bring it forward for a right purpose, he overturns the argument; but when he wishes to use it for harm, he sets it up with great zeal. And if someone says, "How is Alexander a god? Did he not die, and miserably?" "But the soul is immortal," he says. Now you make the argument for immortality and play the philosopher, so as to draw people away from the God over all; but when we say that this is God's greatest gift, you persuade those who are better disposed that they have been deceived. And if we say that the Crucified lives, there is laughter at once, though the whole world cries it aloud, both of old and now: then from the signs, now from the converts; for these achievements are not those of a dead man. But if someone says that Alexander lives, you believe it, though you have no sign to name. "Yes," he says; "for he achieved many great things while living; he subdued nations and cities, won many wars and battles, and set up trophies." If, then, I show what neither he while living imagined, nor any other man who ever lived, what other proof of the resurrection will you seek? For to achieve wars and victories while living, being a king and having armies, is nothing wonderful, nor marvelous and new; but to do such things after a cross and a tomb, everywhere on land and sea, this is what is above all full of [wonder], and proclaims the divine and unspeakable power. And Alexander after his death did not restore his empire, torn apart and utterly destroyed; how could the dead man? But Christ established his above all then, when he died. And why do I speak of Christ, when he granted even to his disciples to shine after they died? For where, tell me, is the tomb of Alexander? Show it to me, and tell me the day on which he died. But the tombs of Christ's servants are glorious, having taken possession of the most royal city, and their days are well known, making a festival for the world. And his tomb not even his own people know, but this one's [even the barbarians know]. And the tombs of the servants of the Crucified are more glorious than royal courts, not only in the size and beauty of the buildings (for in this too they prevail), but, what is much more, in the zeal of those who gather there. For he himself who wears the purple goes to embrace those tombs, and, laying aside his pride, stands begging the saints to intercede for him with God; and he who wears the diadem begs the tentmaker and the fisherman, though they are dead, to be his protectors. Will you dare, then, tell me, to call their Master dead, whose servants, even when dead, are the protectors of the kings of the world? And one may see this happening not only in Rome, but in Constantinople too. For here too the son thought he honored Constantine the Great with great honor if he laid him in the porch of the fisherman; and what doorkeepers are to kings in palaces, kings are to fishermen at the tomb. And the fishermen, as masters of the place, occupy the inside; while the kings, as sojourners and neighbors, were content to have the outer door assigned to them, showing even the unbelievers from what happens here that in the resurrection the fishermen will have a greater preeminence. For if it is so here in the tombs, much more in the resurrection. And the order has been exchanged: kings take the rank of servants and attendants, while subjects are invested with the dignity of kings, or rather a more glorious one. And that the thing is not flattery, the truth itself shows; for through those men these too have become more glorious. For these tombs are far more venerable than the other royal tombs; for there there is great solitude, but here a great festival. And if you wish to compare these tombs with royal courts as well, here again is the victory. For there are many who drive people away, but here many who invite and draw in rich, poor, men, women, slaves, free; there great fear, here unspeakable pleasure. "But it is a sweet sight to see a king wearing gold and crowned, and soldiers standing beside him." But the things here are so much more venerable and awesome that one would think those things a stage show and child's play compared with these. For as soon as you have stepped over the threshold, the place sends your mind up to heaven, to the King above, to the camp of the angels, to the lofty throne, to the unapproachable glory. And here he made one subject to a ruler of those under him, to loose one and bind another; but the bones ...

[End of Homily 26:] ... of the saints do not have this pitiable and lowly authority, but that far greater one. For they set demons before them and torture them, and release the bound from those most bitter chains. What is more fearful than this court? Though no one is seen, though no one presses on the demon's sides, there are cries and convulsions, scourgings, tortures, burning tongues, because the demon cannot bear that wonderful power. And those who once wore bodies master bodiless powers; dust and bones and ashes rend those invisible natures. For this reason no one would ever travel abroad to see royal courts, but many kings have often travelled abroad for the sake of this sight. For the martyrs' shrines of the saints furnish traces and tokens of the judgment to come, as demons are scourged and men are chastised and set free. Do you see the power of the saints, even when dead? Do you see the weakness of sinners, even when alive? Flee wickedness, then, so that you may master such powers, and pursue virtue with all earnestness. For if the things here are such, consider how great the things to come are. And continually held by this love, lay hold of eternal life; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

[Homily 27.] ["I have become a fool; you compelled me"] [2 Cor 12:11]. Having completed his discourse about his own praises, he did not stop there, but defends himself again and asks pardon for what has been said, saying that the thing was a matter of necessity, not of choice. But nevertheless, even though there was necessity, he calls himself a fool. At the beginning he said, "Receive me as a fool," and, "as in foolishness"; but now, removing the "as," he calls himself a fool. For having established by what he said what he wished, he now at last confidently and unsparingly [grapples with all such failing, teaching all] never to praise oneself when there is no necessity, since even when there was a cause Paul called himself a fool. Then he turns the whole cause of what was said not on the false apostles but on the disciples: "You compelled me." For if they [had boasted but] had not done this with your error, nor been destroying you, I would not have been led to lower myself to these words; but since they were corrupting a whole church, looking to your advantage, I was compelled to become a fool. And he did not say, "For I feared that they, having carried off the first place among you, might sow their own things"; he set this down above, saying, "I am afraid lest, as the serpent deceived Eve, so your minds may be corrupted" [2 Cor 11:3]; but here not so, but with more authority and greater license, having from what had been said the boldness. "For I ought to have been commended by you." Then he sets down the reason too, and he does not again speak of revelations, nor of the signs only, but also of the trials: "For in nothing was I behind the super-apostles." See how again [he speaks with more confidence]: for before he said, "I reckon that I am in nothing behind" [2 Cor 11:5]; but here he says it declaratively; as I said, after the proofs he speaks confidently at last. Yet not even so does he depart from measure, nor from his own character. For as though he had said something great and beyond his own worth, in numbering himself with the apostles, so he is again moderate, and adds, saying, "even though I am nothing. The signs of an apostle were worked among you" [2 Cor 12:12]. Do not look at this, he says, whether I am mean and small, but whether you did not enjoy the things you ought to have enjoyed from an apostle. And he did not say "mean," but what was lower, "nothing." For what profit is there in being great and helping no one? As there is no gain in a skilled physician who heals none of the sick. Do not examine this, then, he says, that I am nothing, but consider this, that in what you ought to have received benefit, I fell short in nothing, but I gave the proof of my apostleship. So there was no need of words from me. And he said these things not needing to be commended (for how could he, who thought even heaven small compared with his longing for Christ?), but desiring their salvation. Then, so that they may not say, "And what is it to us, even if you were in nothing behind the super-apostles?" he therefore added that "among you the signs of an apostle were worked, in all endurance, and in signs and wonders." Oh, what a sea of achievements he passed over in a few words! And see what he sets down first: endurance. For this is the proof of an apostle, to bear everything nobly. This he gives briefly, in a short word; but the signs, which were not his own achievements, at greater length. For consider how many prisons, how many stripes, how many dangers, how many [plots, how many storms of trials], how many civil wars, foreign wars, how many pains, how many assaults [he set down] by the name of endurance; and again by the signs, how many dead [raised, how many other wonders]. Hearing these things, let us learn, if we fall into the necessity of such narratives, to cut short our achievements; which he himself did.

Then, so that some may not say, "Even if you are great and did much, yet not as much as the apostles did in the other churches," he added, "For in what were you inferior to the other churches?" [2 Cor 12:13]. You shared in no less grace than the rest, he says. "But perhaps," someone might say, "why does he turn his word to the apostles, leaving off the battle with the false apostles?" Wishing abundantly to raise up their spirits, and to show that he is not only better than those men, but not even inferior to the great apostles. For this reason, when he speaks about those men, he says, "I more"; but when he compares himself with the apostles, he says it is enough not to have fallen short, though he labored more than they. And from this he shows that they insult those apostles too, when they hold in second place one who is their equal. "Except that I myself was not a burden to you." Again he set down the rebuke with great weight. And what follows is more burdensome: "Forgive me this wrong!" But nevertheless the weight carries words of love too, and praise of them, if indeed they think it a wrong to themselves that the apostle would not consent to take anything from them, nor dared to be supported from there. If you charge this, he says (he did not say, "You charge it wrongly," but with great sweetness), I ask pardon: forgive me this sin. And see his wisdom: since this, continually turned over, brought them reproach, he continually softens it. For above, having said, "As the truth of Christ is in me, this boasting of mine will not be stopped," he said again, "Because I do not love you? God knows. But so that I may cut off the occasion from those who want an occasion, and so that in what they boast of they may be found just as we are" [2 Cor 11:10–12]. And in the first letter, "What then is my reward? That in preaching the gospel I may make the gospel free of charge" [1 Cor 9:18]. And here, "Forgive me this wrong." For everywhere he avoids showing that it is because of their weakness that he does not receive; that is why here too he says thus: if you think this an offense, I ask pardon. And he said these things both striking and healing. For do not say, "If you wish to strike, why do you defend yourself? If to heal, why do you strike?" For this belongs to wisdom: both to cut and to bind up the wound.

Then, so that he may not seem, as they said before too, to keep turning it over continually in order to receive, he heals it in the first letter too, saying, "But I have not written this so that it may be done so in my case; for it would be better for me to die than that anyone should make my boasting void" [1 Cor 9:15]; but here more sweetly and gently. How and in what way? "Here for the third time I am ready to come to you, and I will not be a burden to you; for I do not seek what is yours, but you. For children ought not to lay up for their parents, but parents for their children" [2 Cor 12:14]. What he says is this: it is not because I do not receive that I do not come; but I came a second time, and I have prepared to come this third time, "and I will not be a burden to you." And the reason is noble. For he did not say, "Since you are stingy," ... but, "For I do not seek what is yours, but you." I seek greater things: souls instead of money, salvation instead of gold. Then, since the thing still carried a suspicion, as though he were pained with them, he therefore sets down a reasoning too. For since it was likely that they would say, "Is it not possible to have both us and what is ours?" he adds the defense with great grace, saying, "For children ought not to lay up for their parents, but parents for their children"; putting parents and children in place of teachers and disciples, and showing that he does as a matter of debt what was not a matter of debt. For Christ did not so command [1 Cor 9:14]; but sparing them he says this; that is why he even adds more. For he did not say only that children ought not to lay up treasure, but also that parents ought to do so. Since, then, I must give, "I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls" [2 Cor 12:15]. For the law of nature commanded parents to lay up for their children; but I not only do this, but give myself besides. And this is the excess: not only not to receive, but to give besides, and not simply, but with great generosity and out of want; for "I will be spent" is the language of one hinting at this. For even if I must spend my very flesh, I will not spare it for your salvation. And what follows is with a charge and with love at once: "If I love you more abundantly, am I loved the less?" And I do these things, he says, for those who are loved, and who do not love in the same way. Consider, then, how many steps the thing has. He ought to have received, but he did not receive: see the first achievement. And while in want: the second. And while preaching to them: the third. And he gives besides: the fourth. And not simply gives besides, but with intensity: the fifth. And not money only, but himself: the sixth. And for those who do not greatly love him: the seventh. And for those he greatly loves: [the eighth.]

Let us too, then, emulate this man. For it is a great charge not to love; but it becomes greater when someone, being loved, does not love. For [if] the one who loves the one who loves him has nothing more than the tax collectors [Matt 5:46], the one who does not even have this would be lower even than the wild beasts. What are you saying, man? You do not love the one who loves you? And for what do you live? Where will you be useful from now on? In what affairs? In public ones? In private ones? Not at all; for nothing is more useless than a man who does not know how to love. Even robbers and murderers and housebreakers have often respected this law, and having only shared salt, have changed, altering their ways because of the table; but you, sharing not only salt but words and deeds, comings in and goings out, do you not love? Those who love shamefully spend whole fortunes on prostitutes; but you, having an honorable love, are you so cold and weak and unmanly as not to consent to love even without expense? "And who," someone says, "will be so wretched, who such a beast, as to turn from and hate the one who loves him?" You do well to disbelieve because of the absurdity of the thing; but if I show that there are many such, how shall we bear the shame from then on? For when you speak ill of the one you love, when you hear another speak ill and do not defend him, when you envy him when he is well approved, what love is this? And yet not even this is enough to show friendship, not envying, as neither is not being hostile, nor not making war; but one must also applaud and increase the one who loves. But when someone does and says everything so as to pull down his neighbor, what could be more wretched than this soul? Yesterday and the day before a friend, and you shared words and table; then all at once, since you saw your own member well approved, throwing off the mask of friendship you put on that of enmity, or rather of madness. For it is plain madness to be stung by the good things of one's neighbors; for this belongs to madmen and rabid dogs. For like them these too leap at the faces of all, provoked by envy. It is better to have a serpent rolling in one's entrails than envy creeping within. For that one can often be vomited out by drugs and soothed by food; but envy does not roll in the entrails, but turns in the bosom of the soul, and is a passion hard to wipe out. And the serpent within would not touch human bodies when food is set before it; but envy, even if you set ten thousand tables before it, [devours the soul,] dragging it about; and it is not possible to find any comfort for it by which it will cease from its madness, except one only: the misfortune of the one who prospers. So it is relieved, or rather, not even so. For even if this man suffers harm, seeing another prospering it is held by the same pains; and everywhere wounds, everywhere blows. For it is not possible, moving about on earth, not to see people well approved. And so great is the excess of the disease that even if one shuts [the envious man] up at home, [he envies] the men of old who are dead. And for worldly men to suffer this is harsh, yet not so terrible; but that even those who have been freed from the uproars of the world should be held by this disease, this is harder than all. And I wished to keep silent; but if silence would also remove the shame that comes from the facts, there would be gain in saying nothing; but if, even if I keep silent, the facts will cry out more loudly than my tongue, no harm will come from my words, as though our evils were being paraded, but perhaps gain and some benefit. For this disease has laid hold even of the church; this has turned everything upside down, and split the coherence of the body, and we stand against one another, envy arming us. For this reason the perversion is great. For if, when all build up, it is enough if those who are taught stand firm, when we all pull down, what will be the end?

What are you doing, man? You think it profitable to pull down your neighbor's affairs; but before his you pull down your own. Do you not see the vine-dressers, the farmers, how they all run to one goal? One has dug, others have planted, another has heaped earth around the root, another ..., another drives off the cattle; and all look to one thing, the preservation of the plant. But here it is not so; but I plant, and another shakes and loosens it. Let it at least be well fixed, so that it may become stronger than the plotting. You are not destroying my work, but undoing your own. I planted; you ought to have watered. If, then, you shake it, you have pulled up the root and have nothing on which to show your watering. "But do you see the one who plants well approved?" Do not be afraid; neither am I anything, nor you. "For neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything" [1 Cor 3:7]; the work is of the one God. So you fight and make war against him, by pulling up what has been planted. Let us become sober at last, then; let us be watchful. I do not fear the war from outside so much as the battle within. For a root too, when it is well fitted into the earth, will suffer nothing from the winds; but if it is shaken itself, a worm gnawing it within, it will fall even with nothing [else touching it]. How long shall we gnaw the root of the church like worms? For such thoughts are born from the earth, or rather not even from the earth but from dung, having rottenness for their mother; and they do not keep away from the despicable flattery of women. Let us at last become noble men, let us become athletes of philosophy, let us drive away the great flood of these evils. For I see the multitude of the church now lying like a dead body. And as in a body that has recently died one can see eyes, and hands and feet and neck and head, but none of the members doing its own work, so here too all who are present are believers, but the faith is not active; for we have quenched its warmth and made the body of Christ dead. And if what has been said is dreadful, it is far more dreadful when it appears in deeds. For we have the names of brothers, but the deeds of enemies; and all being called members, we stand apart like wild beasts. I have said these things not wishing to parade our affairs, but to shame you and turn you away from them.

So-and-so went into a house and enjoyed honor; though you ought to give thanks to God that your member is honored and God is glorified, you do the opposite. Do you speak ill [of him] to the one who [honored him]? Did you hear a brother praised, whether among men or among women, and were you grieved? Add to the praises; so you will praise yourself too. But if you pull down the praise, you have first spoken ill of yourself. When you hear him praised, become a sharer in what is said, if not by your life and virtue, then by rejoicing in his good things. So-and-so praised him? Admire him too; so he too will praise you as kind and gentle. Do not fear that you are pulling down your own affairs by praising others; for this happens rather in accusations. For the race of men is contentious; and when he sees you speaking ill, he heightens the praises, wishing to sting you by this, and blames the accusers to himself and slanders them to others. Do you see how much disgrace we cause ourselves? How we destroy the flock and tear it apart? Let us at last become members, let us become one body; and let the one who is praised push away the praises and transfer them to his brother, and the one who hears another praised, let him rejoice with him. If we gather ourselves together so, we shall draw the Head to ourselves as well; but if we are divided from one another, we shall drive away the help from there too; and when that departs, the body will suffer great damage, not being held together from above. So that this may not happen, then, let us drive away jealousy and envy, and, despising the glory of the many, embrace love and concord. For so we shall obtain both the present and the future good things; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

"But be it so, I myself did not burden you; yet, being crafty, I caught you by guile. Did I take advantage of you through any of those whom I sent to you? I urged Titus, and sent the brother with him. Did Titus take advantage of you? Did we not walk in the same spirit? Not in the same steps?" [2 Cor 12:16–18]. These words are said by Paul very obscurely, but not in vain nor at random. For since the discourse was about money and the defense concerning it, what was said was fittingly shadowed over. What, then, is said? He said, "I did not take, but I am ready even to give besides and to spend"; and he discoursed much about this both in the first letter and in this one. But now he says something else, introducing the argument as from an objection and refuting it beforehand. What he says is this: I did not take advantage of you; but someone may perhaps say, "He did not take himself, but being crafty he arranged for those sent by him to ask something of you in their own person, and through them he received it himself, putting himself outside the appearance of having taken, while receiving through others." But no one could say even this; and you are witnesses. That is why he carries on the argument by questions, saying, "I urged Titus, and sent the brother with him. Did Titus take advantage of you? Did he not walk as I did?" That is, he did not take either. Do you see how great the intensity of his exactness was, not only keeping himself clean of gain, but so ordering those sent by him as to give not even a small pretext to those who wished to find fault? For this is much greater than what the patriarch did. For he, returning from victory, when the king offered spoils, said he would take nothing except what his men had eaten [Gen 14:21–24]; but this man neither enjoyed even necessary food himself, nor allowed his companions to share in it, [so abundantly stopping the mouths of the shameless.] That is why he does not declare it, nor say that they did not take either, but what was far greater than this: he brings the Corinthians themselves forward as witnesses that they had taken nothing, so that he may not seem to bear witness in his own person, but from their vote; which we usually do in matters that are fully agreed and about which we are confident. "Tell me," he says, "did any of those sent to you take advantage of you?" He did not say, "Did anyone take anything from you?" but calls the thing "taking advantage," attacking them and greatly shaming them, and showing that to take from the unwilling is taking advantage. And he did not say, "Did Titus?" but, "Did any?" For you could not say even this, he says, that so-and-so did not take, but another did. "I urged Titus." This too strikes home. For he did not say, "I sent Titus," but "I urged," showing that even if he had taken, he would have taken justly; but nevertheless even so he remained clean. That is why he asks them again, saying, "Did Titus take advantage of you? Did we not walk in the same spirit?" What is "in the same spirit"? He ascribes the whole to grace, and shows that this whole praise was the achievement not of our labors but of the gift of the Spirit and of grace. For it was a very great grace, even when in want and hungry, not to take, for the sake of the building up of the disciples. "Not in the same steps?" That is, they did not deviate even a little from this exactness, but kept the same rule.

"Again, do you think that we are defending ourselves to you?" [2 Cor 12:19]. Do you see how everywhere he fears lest he get a reputation for flattery? Do you see the apostolic prudence, how continually he sets this down? For earlier he said, "We are not commending ourselves to you again, but giving you an occasion to boast" [2 Cor 5:12]; and at the beginning of the letter, "Do we need letters of commendation?" [2 Cor 3:1]. "But all things for your building up." Again he heals them. And not even here does he say plainly, "For this reason we do not receive, because of your weakness," but, "so that we may build you up"; saying it more clearly than before, and uncovering what he was laboring with, yet not in a striking way. For he did not say, "because of your weakness," but, "so that you may be built up." "For I fear lest perhaps, when I come, I may find you not such as I wish, and I may be found by you such as you do not wish" [2 Cor 12:20]. He is about to say something great and burdensome. That is why he sets down the defense too, both by saying, "All things for your building up," and by adding, "I fear," softening the harshness of what was going to be said. For this was no longer a matter of arrogance or of a teacher's authority, but of a father's solicitude, when he fears more than the sinners and trembles at the prospect of correcting them. But not even so does he run them down, nor declare it, but says doubtfully, "lest perhaps, when I come, [I find you] not such as I wish." He did not say "wicked," but "not such as I wish," showing through everything the names of friendship. And "find" too is the language of one who indicates the unexpected, as also "be found by you." For the thing is not of choice, but of necessity, which takes its cause from you. That is why he said, "such as I do not wish"; but more strikingly, "such as you do not wish." For in the end it was his wish, not his primary wish, but a wish nevertheless. For he could have said again, "such as I do not wish," and so shown his love; but he did not wish to slacken the hearer. Or rather, his word would have become harsher so; but now he both struck harder and showed himself gentler. For this is characteristic of his wisdom: having said it obscurely, he uncovers it, saying, "lest perhaps there be strife, jealousies, angers, slanders, whisperings, swellings." And what he was going to put first, he puts last; for they were arrogant against him. So that he might not seem to seek his own interest primarily, he speaks first of the common one.

For all these things were born from jealousy: the slanders, the accusations, the divisions. For like some evil root, jealousy bore anger, accusation, arrogance, all the rest, and was increased the more by them. "Lest when I come again my God should humble me before you" [2 Cor 12:21]. And "again" was the language of one striking them. For the former things are enough, he says; as he said at the beginning, "To spare you I did not come again to Corinth" [2 Cor 1:23]. Do you see how he shows both indignation and tender affection? And what is "humble"? Surely it is glory to accuse, to punish, to demand an account, to sit in the rank of a judge; but nevertheless he calls it humiliation. So far was he from being ashamed of that humiliation, that "his bodily presence is weak and his speech of no account," that he even wished to be in it continually, and prayed against the opposite. And he says this more clearly further on, and counts this above all as humiliation, to fall into such a necessity of chastising and punishing. And why did he not say, "lest when I come I be humbled," but, "lest when I come my God should humble me"? Because, if it were not for him, I would not have turned to it, I would not have cared. For I do not exact a penalty as one who has authority and is self-willed, but because of his command. Above he set it down saying, "I may be found such as you do not wish"; but here he lowers his tone, and speaks more gently and mildly, saying, "and I shall mourn many of those who have sinned before and have not repented." Not simply those who have sinned, but those who have not repented. And he did not say "all," but "many"; and not even these does he make known, giving them from this too an easy return to repentance, and making plain that repentance can correct offenses; he mourns those who do not repent, those incurably sick, those who remain in the wound. Consider, then, apostolic virtue, when, conscious of nothing evil in himself, he laments over others' evils and is humbled for what others have done wrong. For this is above all the mark of a teacher, to share the pain of the disciples' calamities so, to beat the breast and mourn over the wounds of those under his rule.

Then he names the kind of sin too: "for the uncleanness and sexual immorality and licentiousness which they practiced." Here he hints at sexual immorality; but if one examines carefully, every kind of sin too can be called by this name. For even if the fornicator and the adulterer are called unclean above all, yet the other sins too produce uncleanness in the soul. For this very reason Christ too calls the Jews unclean, not charging them with sexual immorality only, but with other wickedness too. That is why he says, "[Clean the inside,] so that the outside also may be clean" [Matt 23:26]; and, "Not what goes in defiles a man, but what comes out" [Matt 15:11]; and elsewhere it is said, "Everyone who is proud in heart is unclean before the Lord" [Prov 16:5 LXX]. And rightly. For nothing is cleaner than virtue, nothing more unclean than vice; the one is brighter than the sun, the other more foul-smelling than mire. And those who [wallow] in the mire and live in darkness would themselves bear witness to this, when someone enables them to look up toward themselves even a little. For as long as they are by themselves and drunk with the passion, as though living in darkness they lie shamelessly with great disgrace, perceiving even then where they are, but not exactly; but when they see one of those who live in virtue reproving them, even merely appearing, then they recognize their own wretchedness more clearly, and as though a ray had been let in, they cover their own shame, and blush before those who are aware of it, even if one is a slave and the other free, one a king and the other a subject. So Ahab was ashamed on seeing Elijah, caught by his mere appearance before Elijah had said anything; and while the accuser was silent, he passed the vote condemning himself, uttering the words of those who are caught, and saying, "Have you found me, O my enemy?" [1 Kgs 21:20]. So Elijah himself then spoke with great boldness to that tyrant. So Herod, not bearing the shame of reproof (for the voice of the prophetic tongue, shining brightly and clearly, showed it more plainly), cast John into prison [Matt 14:3–4], as one naked who tries to put out the lamp so as to be in the dark again. Or rather, he himself did not dare to put it out, but put it, as it were, under the bushel into the prison; but that wretched and miserable woman compelled this to happen. But not even so could they cover the reproof, but kindled it the more. For both those who then asked why John lived in prison learned the reason, and all who afterwards inhabited land and sea, those who lived then and now and who will live hereafter, have clearly known and will know these wicked dramas, both of their licentiousness and of their bloodshed, and no time will be able to blot out the memory of them.

So great is virtue, so immortal the memory it has, so does it strike its opponents with terror even by words alone. For why did he cast him into prison? Why did he not despise him? Was he going to drag him into court? Did he exact a penalty for the adultery? Were not his words only a reproof so far? Why then does he fear and tremble? Were they not words and bare speech? But they stung more than deeds. He did not bring him into court, but he dragged him into another tribunal, that of conscience, and set as judges over him all who then with authority passed their votes in their minds. That is why the tyrant trembled, not bearing the brightness of virtue. Do you see how great a thing philosophy is? It made a prisoner more glorious than a tyrant, and the tyrant fears and trembles at him. But he only bound him; that defiled woman rushed even to slaughter. And yet the charge bore rather on him. For John did not meet her and say, "Why do you live with the tyrant?" not because she was not accountable (how could that be?), but he wished to correct the whole from this side. That is why he blamed him; and not even him vehemently. For he did not say, "O defiled and utterly [wicked man, you have trampled on] the law of God, despised what was commanded, made your power law." Nothing of the kind; but even in his reproofs the man's gentleness was great, great his mildness: "For it is not lawful for you," he says, "to have the wife of your brother Philip" [Mark 6:18]. The word is that of one teaching rather than reproving, instructing rather than punishing, setting right rather than exposing, correcting rather than trampling. But, as I said, light is hateful to the thief; the righteous man is burdensome to sinners even by simply appearing: "For he is grievous to us even to behold" [Wis 2:15]. For they do not bear his rays, as those with diseased eyes do not bear the sun's. And to many of the wicked he is burdensome not only when he appears, but even when heard of. For this reason that defiled woman, or rather child-murderess, though she had neither seen him nor heard his voice, rushed to his slaughter; and she brings the girl whom she had reared licentiously to come even to murder: so excessively did she fear him. And what does she say? "Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist" [Matt 14:8]. Where are you being carried, down the precipices, wretched and miserable woman? Is the accuser present? Is he seen and troubling you? Others said, "He is grievous to us even to behold"; but to her, as I said, even when heard of. That is why she says, "Give me here on a platter the head of John." And yet he lives in prison because of you, and is bound with a chain, and you may revel in your passion and say thus: "I have mastered the king, so that he did not even [break off] my adultery, but even bound the one who accused it." Why are you mad and raging, when even after the reproof of your sin you have your bridegroom? Why do you seek a table of the Furies and prepare a banquet of avenging demons? Do you see how worthless, how cowardly, how unmanly vice is, how when it most prevails, then it becomes weaker? For this woman was not so troubled before casting John into prison as she is disturbed now that he is bound, and she urges, saying, "Give me here on a platter the head of John." And why "here"? "I fear," she says, "lest the murder be shadowed over, lest some rescue him from the danger." And why do you not seek the whole corpse, but the head? "The tongue that grieved me, this I long to see silent." But the opposite is true, as indeed happened, wretched and miserable woman: it will cry out more loudly after this, when cut off. For then it cried out in Judea only, but now it will reach the ends of the world; and wherever you go into a church, whether in the land of the Moors, or of the Persians, or even to the British Isles themselves, you hear John crying, "It is not lawful for you to have the wife of your brother Philip." But she, knowing nothing of philosophy, presses and chokes and pushes the senseless tyrant to the murder, fearing lest he should ever change. But learn again from this the strength of virtue. She does not bear the righteous man even shut up, even bound and silent. Do you see how weak vice is, how unclean? For instead of dishes she brings a human head on a platter. What could be more defiled, more accursed, more shameless than that girl? What a cry she let out in ...

[End of Homily 28:] ... in the theater of the devil and the banquet of demons? Do you see tongue against tongue, the one bringing saving medicines, the other carrying poison? But why did she not order him to be slaughtered inside at the banquet, where her pleasure would have been greater? She feared lest, if he came and was seen, he would change them all by his look, by his boldness. That is why she asks for the head, wishing to set up a glorious trophy of sexual immorality; and the girl gave it to her mother [Matt 14:11]. Do you see the wages of the dancing, the spoils of the devilish plot? I do not mean the head of John, but the man she lived with himself. For if one examines carefully, the trophy will be against the king; and the woman who conquered was defeated, and the beheaded man [was crowned and proclaimed victor, even after death] shaking more violently the minds of those who had sinned. And that what has been said is no boast, ask Herod himself; who, when he heard of Christ's signs, said, "This is John; he has been raised from the dead, and therefore these powers are at work in him" [Matt 14:2]. So vigorous did he keep his fear and so continual his agony; and no one could cast off the dread of his conscience, but that incorruptible judge remained choking him and every day demanding satisfaction for the murder. Knowing these things, then, let us not fear suffering evil, but doing evil; for the one is victory, the other defeat. That is why Paul too said, "Why do you not rather suffer wrong? But you yourselves do wrong and defraud, and that your brothers" [1 Cor 6:7–8]. For in suffering evil are the crowns and the prizes and the proclamation. And one may see this in all the saints. Since, then, [they were all so crowned,] let us all travel this road; and let us pray not to enter into temptation; but if it comes, let us stand with great courage and show the readiness that is fitting, so that we may obtain the good things to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages.

[Homily 29.] "This is the third time I am coming to you. By the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established" [2 Cor 13:1]. From many other places, but especially from this one too, one can see Paul's philosophy and his great tender affection: how he is lavish in [exhortations, but slow] in punishments. For he did not punish them at once when they sinned, but warned them once and a second time; and not even when they disobeyed so does he punish them, but warns again, saying, "This is the third time I am coming to you," and before I come, I write again. Then, so that the delay may not produce carelessness, see how he sets this right too, continually threatening and holding up the blow, and saying, "If I come again, I will not spare" [2 Cor 13:2]; and, "lest when I come I mourn many" [2 Cor 12:21]. And he does and says this imitating in this too the Master of all; for God too continually threatens and often warns, but does not often chastise and punish. This he too does; and for this reason he said earlier, "To spare you I did not come again to Corinth" [2 Cor 1:23]. What is "to spare you"? So that, finding you sinners and remaining uncorrected, I might not bring chastisement and punishment. And here, "This is the third time I am coming to you; by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established." He joins what is not written to what is written [Deut 19:15]; which he did elsewhere too, saying, "He who is joined to a prostitute is one body; for the two, he says, shall become one flesh" [1 Cor 6:16; Gen 2:24]. And yet this was said of lawful marriage; but he used it for this purpose profitably, so as to frighten them more. So he does here too, putting his visits and his warnings in place of witnesses. What he says is this: I spoke once, and a second time, when I was present; I speak now too by letter. And if you listen to me, what I desired has happened; but if you disobey, it is necessary at last to make good what has been said and bring the punishment. That is why he says, "I have said beforehand, and I say beforehand, as when present the second time, and now being absent I write to those who sinned before and to all the rest, that if I come again I will not spare." For if "by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established," I came a second time and spoke, and I speak now too through the letter; I must at last make it true. For do not think that letters have less force than presence; for as I said when present, so I write now when absent. Do you see a father's solicitude? Do you see teaching and fitting forethought? He neither kept silent nor chastised, but both forewarns often, and continues threatening, and puts off the punishment; and if they should remain uncorrected, then he threatens to bring it in fact. And what did you say beforehand when present, and write now when absent? "That if I come again, I will not spare." Having first shown that he cannot do this unless compelled, and calling the thing mourning and humiliation ("lest when I come my God should humble me before you, and I mourn"), and having defended himself to them, that he forewarned once and a second and a third time, and that he does and contrives everything so as to stave off the punishment and to make them better by fear of his words, then he set down this burdensome and fearful thing, saying, "that if I come again, I will not spare." He did not say, "I will both chastise and exact a penalty," but again sets down the punishment itself in fatherly words, showing his heart and his mind that shares their pain, because he always put it off out of sparing them. Then, so that they may not think now too that there is again a postponement and a mere threat in words, for this reason he said before, "By the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established," and, "that if I come again, I will not spare." What he says is this: I will no longer put it off, but will certainly bring it, and will make good what I have said.

Then with great anger and vehement indignation against those who ridiculed him as weak and mocked his presence, saying, "His presence is weak and his speech of no account," as though directing himself at them, he says, "since you seek a proof of Christ speaking in me" [2 Cor 13:3]. For he said this at once striking these and attacking those. What he says is this: since you wish to test whether Christ dwells in me, and demand an account, and for this reason ridicule me as mean and contemptible, as being destitute of that power, you will know that we are not destitute, if you give occasion, which God forbid. "What then? Tell me, do you punish for this reason, because they seek a proof?" No, he says; for if I sought this, I would have punished them as sinners from the first and not have borne with them. And that he does not seek this, he showed more clearly further on, saying, "But I pray to God that you do no evil, not that we may appear approved, but that you may do what is good, though we be as unapproved" [2 Cor 13:7].

So he does not set it down as giving a reason, but rather in indignation, rather attacking those who despised him. I do not wish, he says, to give you such a proof; but if you yourselves supply the cause and wish to provoke me, you will know by the deeds themselves. And see how he makes the word weighty. For he did not say, "since you seek a proof of me," but, "of Christ speaking in me," showing that it was against him that they sinned. And he did not say simply "dwelling," but "speaking," showing that the words are spiritual. And if he does not display his strength nor punish, [this is] not from weakness (for he is able), but from long-suffering; [and he shifts] the word from himself [to Christ]. Let no one, then, reckon his forbearance as weakness. For why do you wonder if he does not now proceed against sinners nor exact a penalty, bearing with them and being long-suffering, when he himself endured even to be crucified, and suffering such things did not punish? That is why he added, "who is not weak toward you, but is powerful among you. For though he was crucified out of weakness, yet he lives by the power of God" [2 Cor 13:3–4].

The words have much obscurity, and cause disturbance to the weaker. Therefore it is necessary to unfold them more clearly, and to state the meanings of this word about which the obscurity lies, so that none even of the simpler may stumble. What, then, is said, and what does the name "weakness" signify, and in which meaning is it said? This must be learned. For the word is one, but the things it signifies are many. For weakness is said of bodily sickness; that is why it is said in the Gospel about Lazarus, "See, he whom you love is weak" [John 11:3]; and he himself said, "This weakness is not unto death" [John 11:4]; and Paul about Epaphroditus, "[For he was weak, near to death,] but God had mercy on him" [Phil 2:27]; and about Timothy, "Use wine for your stomach's sake and your frequent weaknesses" [1 Tim 5:23]. For all these signify bodily sickness. Again, weakness is said of not being firmly fixed in the faith, nor being perfect and complete. And showing this Paul said, "Receive the one who is weak in faith, not for disputes about opinions" [Rom 14:1]; and again, "One believes he may eat all things, but the weak one eats vegetables" [Rom 14:2], meaning the one who is weak in faith. See, there are two meanings of weakness; and there is a third thing too which is called weakness. What is this? Persecutions, plots, insults, trials, assaults. And showing this Paul said, "Concerning this I besought the Lord three times; and he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness" [2 Cor 12:8–9]. What is "in weakness"? In persecutions, in dangers, in trials, in plots, in deaths. And showing this he said, "Therefore I take pleasure in weakness" [2 Cor 12:10]. Then, showing what weakness he means, he did not say fever, nor doubt about the faith, but what? "In insults, in persecutions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in prisons, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For when I am weak, then I am strong": and I prevail over those who plot against me, as grace settles more abundantly in me.

It is in this third sense, then, that Paul set down weakness; and what he says is this, directing himself again at what I said before, that he seemed mean and contemptible to them. For he did not wish to boast, nor to seem to be what he was, nor to display the power he had for chastising and punishing; hence he was thought to be mean. Since, then, thinking this, they were in great carelessness and ..., having found a fitting occasion he discourses about these things too with great vigor, showing that he did nothing from weakness, but from long-suffering. Then, as I said, transferring the word from himself to Christ, he heightens the fear and increases the threat. What he says is this: if I do anything, and chastise and punish the sinners, am I the one who chastises and punishes? It is the one who dwells in me, Christ himself. And if you do not believe this, but wish to receive a proof, you will quickly know by the deeds of the one who dwells in me; for he is not weak toward you, but is powerful. And why did he add "toward you," though he is powerful everywhere? For whether he wishes to punish unbelievers, he can, or demons, or anything at all. What, then, does the addition mean? The word is that of one greatly shaming them by what they had already experienced; or of one showing this, that for the present he displays his power among you, who ought to be corrected. As he said elsewhere too, "For what have I to do with judging those outside?" [1 Cor 5:12]. For those outside, he says, he will then exact the penalty from on the day of judgment; but you even now, so as to rescue you from that punishment. But nevertheless see how even this, which is a matter of solicitude and done out of tender affection, he sets down with fear and much anger, saying, "who is not weak toward you, but is powerful among you. For though he was crucified out of weakness, yet he lives by the power of God." What is "though he was crucified out of weakness"? For even if he chose, he says, to endure a thing that seems to carry a suspicion of weakness, yet this in no way cuts off his power; for it remains invincible, and the thing that seems to be weakness did not harm it at all; rather, this very thing above all shows his strength, that he endured even such a thing and his power was not mutilated. Do not, then, let the word "weakness" disturb you; for elsewhere too he says, "The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men" [1 Cor 1:25]; and yet God has nothing foolish nor weak; but he so called the cross, explaining the unbelievers' opinion about it. Hear him, at any rate, interpreting himself: "For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God" [1 Cor 1:18]; and again, "But we preach God crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God" [1 Cor 1:23–24]; and again, "The natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit; for they are foolishness to him" [1 Cor 2:14]. See how everywhere he explains the opinion of the unbelievers, who think the cross foolishness and weakness. So here too he does not speak of real weakness, but of the weakness suspected among unbelievers. So he does not say this, that he was crucified being weak; away with it! For he showed by everything that he was able not to be crucified: now throwing them on their backs [John 18:6], now turning back the rays [of the sun], and withering the fig tree [Matt 21:19], and blinding the eyes of those who came against him, and doing countless other things. What, then, does he mean by "out of weakness"? That even if he was crucified, enduring danger and plotting (for we have shown that danger and plotting are called weakness), nevertheless he was in no way harmed.

And he said these things drawing the example to his own case. For since they saw that they themselves too suffered these things, not from feebleness, nor from being unable to proceed against them, he raises the word to the Master: for he too, he says, was crucified, was bound, suffered countless things, and did not proceed against them, but remained, enduring things that seem to belong to weakness, and in this way displaying his own power, that even not proceeding against them nor defending himself, he is not harmed at all. At any rate the cross did not cut off his life, nor hinder his resurrection, but he both rose and lives. And when you hear of cross and life, understand the word about the economy; for this whole word is about it. And if he says "by the power of God" [it is not as though he lacked the strength to give life to the flesh, but because it makes no difference to him to speak of the Father's or of his own power; for having said "by the power of God"], he has spoken of his own power. For that he himself raised it up and holds it, hear him saying, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" [John 2:19]. And if he says that what is his belongs to the Father, do not be disturbed: "For all that the Father has is mine," he says [John 16:15]; and again, "All mine are yours, and yours are mine" [John 17:10]. As, then, he [was not harmed], so neither are we when persecuted and warred against; that is why he adds, "For we too are weak in him, but we shall live with him by the power of God" [2 Cor 13:4]. What is "we are weak in him"? We are persecuted, driven out, we suffer the utmost things. But what is "in him"? Because of the preaching, he says, and faith in him. And if we endure the gloomy and burdensome things for his sake, it is plain that we shall have the bright ones too; that is why he added, "but we shall be saved in him by the power of God."

"Test yourselves, whether you are in the faith; prove yourselves. Or do you not recognize that Christ is in you, unless indeed you are disqualified? But I hope that you will know that we are not disqualified" [2 Cor 13:5–6]. For since by what he had said he had shown that even if he does not proceed against them, it is not as one who does not have Christ in himself, but as imitating the long-suffering of the one who was crucified and did not defend himself, he again achieves the same thing in another way and with greater abundance, establishing the argument from the disciples. For why do I speak about myself, the teacher, he says, who have so great a care and have been entrusted with the whole world and have done so many signs? If you are willing to examine yourselves, who are in the rank of disciples, you will see that Christ is in you too; and if in you, much more in the teacher. For if you have the faith, Christ is in you too. And this is said about believers who worked wonders; for those who believed then worked wonders. That is why he added, "Test yourselves, prove yourselves, whether you are in the faith. Or do you not recognize yourselves, that Christ is in you, unless indeed you are disqualified?" And if in you, much more in the teacher. It seems to me that here he speaks of the faith of signs too. For if you have that faith, he says, Christ is in you too, unless you have become disqualified. Do you see how he again frightens them, and shows abundantly that Christ is with him? For here he seems to me to hint at their life too. For since faith is not enough to draw down the spiritual working, and he had said, "If you are in the faith, you have Christ in yourselves," while it happened that many who had faith were destitute of this working, resolving the difficulty he says, "unless indeed you are disqualified," unless you have a corrupt life. "But I hope that you will know that we are not disqualified." What followed was to say, "But if you have become disqualified, we have not"; but he does not say it so, so as not to strike them, yet he hints at it all the same, neither declaring and saying "you are disqualified," nor proceeding by question and saying "but if you are disqualified," but leaving this aside he shows it in a riddle, adding, "But I hope that you will know that we are not disqualified." Here again great is the threat, great the fear. For since, he says, you wish to receive the proof from this, through punishment upon you, we shall not be at a loss to give you the demonstration. But he does not say it so, but with greater weight and threat: "But I hope that you will know that we are not disqualified." For you ought to have known our affairs even without this, he says, and that we have Christ in ourselves speaking and working; but since you wish to receive the proof through deeds too, you will know that we are not disqualified.

Then, since he had held up the threat and brought the punishment at last to the door, and set them in trembling, and made them expect punishment, see how he again [softens it,] and shows his freedom from ambition, his solicitude toward the disciples, the philosophy of his mind, his loftiness and freedom from vainglory. For he shows all these by what he adds, saying, "Now I pray to God that you do no evil, not that we may appear approved, but that you may do what is good, though we be as disqualified. For we can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth. For we rejoice when we are weak and you are strong. And this we also pray for, your perfecting" [2 Cor 13:7–9]. What could equal this soul? He was despised, [ridiculed] as contemptible, as a boaster, as bragging in words but having nothing to show of his strength in deeds; and he not only postpones, not only draws back, but even prays not to fall into such an occasion: "For I pray," he says, "that you do no evil, not that we may appear approved, but that you may do what is good, though we be as disqualified." What does he mean? I entreat God, he says, I beseech him that I may find no one uncorrected, no one unrepentant; or rather not this only, but that you may not sin at all in the first place: "that you do no evil," he says; [or, if you have sinned,] that you may correct it and turn away all anger. For I am not anxious about this, that we may be approved in that way, but quite the opposite, "not that we may appear approved." For if you remain sinning without repentance, we must chastise, punish, maim your bodies, as happened with Sapphira and the sorcerer [Acts 5:1–10; 13:6–11], and we gave a proof of our power. But we do not pray for this, but the opposite, that we may not appear approved in this way; that is, that we may not display the proof of the power in us in this way, through chastising and punishing you as sinners and incurably sick; but what? "That you may do what is good": this we pray for, that you may always be in virtue, always in amendment, "though we be as disqualified," not displaying our punishing power. And he did not say "disqualified"; for he would not be disqualified even if he did not punish, but for this very reason approved; but even if some suspect us, he says, since we do not display our strength, of being contemptible and cast off, we do not care about this. It is better that we be thought this by them than that we display the power God gave us in blows and in the incorrigibility of your mind. "For we can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth." For so that he may not seem to do them a favor (for this belongs to a mind free of vainglory), but to do what the nature of the thing demands, he added this, saying, "For we can do nothing against the truth." [If we find you] having beaten off your sins through repentance, having boldness toward God, we shall not be able, even if we wish, to chastise you; but even if we attempt it, God will not cooperate. For he gave us the power for this, to bring a true and just verdict, and not one contrary to the truth. Do you see how on every side he makes his word unoffensive and softens the harshness of the threat? But just as he is anxious for this, so he also wishes to show his own mind as closely bound to them; that is why he added, "For we rejoice when we are weak and you are strong. And this we also pray for, your perfecting." Above all, he says, we can do nothing against the truth, that is, punish you when you are pleasing to God; but since we cannot, for this reason we do not wish it either, but desire the opposite. Indeed for this very reason we rejoice above all when we do not find you supplying us an occasion to show our power for punishment. For even if doing such things shows men glorious and approved and strong, we wish the opposite: that you be approved and blameless, and that we never reap the glory that comes from that. That is why he says, "For we rejoice when we are weak": not when we are weak, but when we are thought weak; for they were thought so by their enemies, no longer displaying their punishing power. But nevertheless we rejoice when you so conduct yourselves as to give us no pretext for punishing you. And this is sweet to us, when we are thought weak in this way, if only you are blameless. That is why he adds, "and you are strong," that is, approved, virtuous. And not only do we wish these things, but we also pray for them, that you be blameless, perfected, giving us no handle.

This belongs to a father's heart, to prefer the salvation of the disciples to one's own reputation; this to a soul free of vainglory. This above all frees one from the bonds of the body and makes one soar from earth to heaven, to be clean of vainglory; just as the opposite leads to many sins. For it is not possible for one who is not clean of vainglory to become lofty and great and noble; but he must be dragged on the ground and destroy many things, being slave to a defiled mistress, harsher than any barbarian. For what could be more savage than she, who, when she is most courted, then grows most savage? And yet not even wild beasts have this, but are tamed by much care. But vainglory is the very opposite: when despised it is tamed, but when honored it grows savage and arms itself against the one who honors it. The Jews, honoring it, were punished with great severity; the disciples, dishonoring it, were crowned. And why do I speak of punishment and crowns? For despising it contributes above all to appearing glorious; and you will see even here that those who honor it are harmed, [while those who despise it are honored]. For the disciples, having dishonored it (for nothing prevents using the same example again) and having preferred the things of God, shine above the sun, having gained an immortal memory even after death; but the Jews, who bowed down under it, are without city, without hearth, contemptible. You too, then, if you wish to receive glory, push glory away; but if you pursue glory, you will fall from glory. And, if you wish, [let us examine] this word in worldly affairs too. Whom do we admire, tell me? Not those who despise it? So these are the ones glorified. [Whom do we ridicule?] Not those who desire it? So these above all are the ones deprived of it, having countless [accusers]. For as the rich man is not the one who needs much, but the one who needs nothing, so the glorious man is not the one who loves glory, but the one who disdains it; for this glory is a shadow of glory. No one, seeing bread painted, even if he were held by hunger ten thousand times, would touch the painting. Do not, then, pursue shadows either; for this is a shadow of glory, not glory. And so that you may learn that this is so, consider this: the thing is reviled among men, it seems to all a thing to be fled, even to those who desire it, when the one who has it, or desires it, is ashamed to be called by this name. "Where, then," someone says, "does this desire come from, and how does the passion arise?" From smallness of soul (for one must not only accuse, but also correct), from an imperfect mind, from a childish judgment. Let us, then, [cease to be] children and become men, and everywhere pursue the truth, not the shadows, in wealth and pleasure and luxury and glory and power; and this disease will cease and many others too. For to pursue shadows is the part of a madman. That is why Paul too said, "Awake to righteousness, and do not sin" [1 Cor 15:34]. For there is another madness too, harder than that from demons, than that from frenzy. For that has pardon, but this is deprived of defense, when the soul itself is corrupted, and its judgment is not upright but ruined; and the instrument of frenzy is a bodily passion, but this is the madness of the craftsman, the mind. As, then, of fevers those are harder and incurable which lay hold of the solid parts of the body and the sinews, so too this madness, since [it fastens on] the mind itself. For how is it not plain and evident madness, and a passion harder than all madness, to despise the things that remain forever and to hold with great zeal to the things that perish? For tell me, if someone pursued the wind or tried to grasp it, would we not say he was mad? If someone held shadows, neglecting the realities, and hated his own wife, but embraced her shadow, or turned away from his son, but loved his shadow, would you seek any clearer sign than this for proof of madness? Such are these men too who gape after present things. For all things are a shadow, whether you speak of glory, or power, or reputation, or wealth, or luxury, or anything else of this life. That is why the prophet too said, "Surely man walks about in an image; yet he is disquieted in vain" [Ps 39:6]; and again, "Our days have passed away like a shadow" [Ps 102:11]. And elsewhere he calls human things smoke and the flower of grass [Ps 102:3; Isa 40:6]. And not only the good things are a shadow, but the painful ones too, whether you speak of death, or poverty, or sickness, or anything else. What, then, are the things that remain, both good and painful? The eternal kingdom, and everlasting hell. For "the worm will not die, and the fire will not be quenched" [Mark 9:48]; and "these will rise to eternal life, and those to eternal punishment" [Matt 25:46]. So that we may flee the one and enjoy the other, then, let us let go of the shadow and hold to the [realities]. For so we shall obtain the kingdom of heaven; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness, and so on.

"For this reason I write these things while absent, so that when present I may not [deal sharply, according to the authority which the Lord gave me for building up and not for casting down]" [2 Cor 13:10]. [He knew that] he had spoken rather vehemently, and above all toward the end of the letter. For earlier he said, "Now I, Paul, myself entreat you by the meekness and gentleness of Christ, I who in your presence am lowly among you, but being absent am bold toward you; but I beg you that when I am present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I count on daring against some who count us as walking according to the flesh" [2 Cor 10:1–2]; and, "being ready to punish all disobedience, when your obedience is fulfilled" [2 Cor 10:6]; and, "I fear lest perhaps, when I come, I may find you not such as I wish, and I may be found by you such as you do not wish" [2 Cor 12:20]; and again, "lest my God should humble me before you, and I mourn many of those who have sinned before and have not repented of the uncleanness and licentiousness which they practiced" [2 Cor 12:21]; and after this, "I have said beforehand, and I say beforehand, as when present the second time, and now being absent I write, that if I come again I will not spare, since you seek a proof of Christ speaking in me" [2 Cor 13:2–3]. Since, then, he has said these and many other things, frightening, shaming, reproaching, attacking, he says in defense of them all, "For this reason I write these things while absent, so that when present I may not deal sharply." For I wish the sharpness to lie in the letters, but not in deeds; I wish the letters to be vehement, so that the threats may remain threats and not go out into action. Again in this defense too [he shows that] it is not he who will punish, but God; for he added, "according to the authority which the Lord gave me"; and again he shows that he does not desire to use the authority for their punishment. For he added, "for building up and not for casting down." And he hinted at this now, as I said: [if they] remain [incorrigible], this too is building up, to punish those so disposed. For so it is, and he himself knows this, and showed it by deeds.

"Finally, brothers, rejoice, be perfected, be comforted, be of the same mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you" [2 Cor 13:11]. What is "Finally, brothers, rejoice"? You grieved them, you frightened them, you threw them into anxiety, you made them tremble and be afraid; and how do you bid them rejoice? For this very reason I bid them rejoice. For if your part, he says, follows on mine, nothing will hinder your joy. For all my part has been done so as to gather you from every side into the fruit of repentance. And now your part must be done, and so your joy will be unfading. "Be perfected." What is "be perfected"? Become perfect, fill up what is lacking. "Be comforted." For since the trials were many and the dangers great, he says, "Be comforted," both by one another, and by us, and by your change for the better. For if [your] joy comes from your conscience, and you become perfect, nothing is lacking for your good cheer and comfort; for nothing so produces comfort as a clean conscience, even if countless trials surround one. "Be of the same mind, live in peace"; which he also asked at the beginning of the first letter [1 Cor 1:10]. For it is possible both to be of the same mind and not to live in peace, when people agree in doctrines but are at variance in their dealings with one another. But Paul demands both. "And the God of love and peace will be with you." For he not only exhorts this, but also foretells what will be; or rather both. For if you do these things, he says, that is, if you are of the same mind and live in peace, God too will be with you; for God is of love and peace, and in these he rejoices, in these he delights. From this comes peace to you too, from his love; from this the removal of all evils. This love saved the world, this ended the long war, this mingled earth with heaven, this made men angels. Let us too, then, love this; for love is the mother of countless good things. Through it we were saved, through it we have all the unspeakable good things.

Then, leading them on to it, he says, "Greet one another with a holy kiss" [2 Cor 13:12]. What is "holy"? Not deceitful, not treacherous, as Judas kissed Christ [Matt 26:49]. For the kiss is given for this reason, that it may become a kindling of love, that it may set the disposition aflame, so that we may love one another as brothers love brothers, as children parents, as parents children; or rather even far more; for those things belong to nature, but these to grace. So souls are bound to one another. For this reason too, [when we return] from a journey, [we kiss one another,] hastening to be together. For this above all is the member that proclaims to us the love of the soul.

About this holy kiss one can also give another account. What is it? We are the temple of Christ [1 Cor 3:16]; so, in kissing one another, we kiss the porch and entrance of the temple. Or do you not see how many kiss even the porch of this temple, some stooping down, others holding it with the hand and bringing the hand to the mouth? And through these gates and doors Christ both entered and enters to us, whenever we communicate. You who share in the mysteries know what is said. For our mouth is honored not in an ordinary way, receiving the Lord's body. That is why above all we kiss here. Let those who utter shameful things, who bring out abuse, hear, and shudder at what kind of mouth they disgrace; let those who kiss shamefully hear. Hear what God has spoken through your mouth, and keep it unstained. He has discoursed about the life to come, about the resurrection, about immortality, that death is not death, and the other countless unspeakable things. For as to an oracle, the one who is to be initiated comes to the mouth of the priest. Let us hear how full of awe these things are. For he lost his life from his forefathers, and comes to seek it, and to ask how he may find and recover it. Then God declares to him how it may be found, and this mouth becomes more awesome than the mercy seat. For that mercy seat never uttered such a voice, but discoursed about far lesser things, about wars and peace here below; but these things are all about heaven and the life to come and new things that surpass understanding.

Having said, "Greet one another with a holy kiss," he added, "All the saints greet you" [2 Cor 13:13], giving them good hopes from this too. He wrote this instead of the kiss, joining them by the greeting; for from the same mouth from which the kiss comes, the words also come. Do you see how he gathers all together, both those far off in body and those near, the one through the kiss, the others through the letter? "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen" [2 Cor 13:14]. Since he joined them to one another through the greetings and kisses, he again ends his discourse in prayer, joining them with great exactness to God as well. Where now are those who say that, since the Holy Spirit is not ranked in the openings of the letters, he is not of the same essence? For see, now he has listed him with the Father and the Son. And besides this, one may also say that, writing to the Colossians and saying, "Grace to you and peace from God our Father" [Col 1:2], he was silent about the Son and did not add, as in all the letters, "and the Lord Jesus Christ." Will the Son, then, not be of the same essence for this reason? But these things belong to the utmost folly. For this very thing above all shows that he is of the same essence, that Paul uses it variously. And that what has been said is no conjecture, hear how he mentions the Spirit too and is silent about the Father. For writing to the Corinthians he says, "But you were washed, [but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name] of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God" [1 Cor 6:11]. What then, tell me? Were these not baptized into the Father? Then they were neither washed nor sanctified. But they were baptized; as indeed they were baptized. Why then did he not say, "You were washed in the name of the Father"? Because it was indifferent to him to mention now this person, now that; and you will find this custom in many places of the letters. For writing to the Romans he says, "I exhort you, then, by the mercies of God" [Rom 12:1]; and yet the mercies are the Son's too; and, "I exhort you by the love of the Spirit" [Rom 15:30]; and yet the love is the Father's too. Why then did he not mention the Son in the mercies, nor the Father in the love? Because he was silent about them as plain and agreed. And he will be found again setting down the gifts themselves the other way round. For having said, "The grace of Christ, and the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit," elsewhere he speaks of the fellowship of the Son and the love of the Spirit: "For I exhort you," he says, "by the love of the Spirit." And in the letter to the Corinthians: "God is faithful, through whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son" [1 Cor 1:9]. So the things of the Trinity are undivided; and whose the fellowship of the Spirit is, it was found to be the Son's too; and whose the grace of the Son is, it is the Father's and the Holy Spirit's too: "Grace to you," he says, "from God the Father" [Rom 1:7]. And elsewhere, having listed many kinds of it, he added, "But all these the one and the same Spirit works, distributing to each one individually as he wills" [1 Cor 12:11]. And I say these things not confusing the persons (away with it!), but knowing both what is proper to them and distinct, and the unity of the essence.

Let us remain, then, holding the exactness of these doctrines, and drawing to ourselves the love of God. For before, he loved us when we hated him, and reconciled us when we were enemies [Rom 5:10]; but now he wishes to love us when we love him. Let us remain, then, loving him, so as also to be loved by him. For if, when we are loved by powerful men, we are formidable to all, much more when loved by God. Even if we must give money, or bodies, or life itself for this love, let us not spare them. For it is not enough to say in words that we love, but we must also supply the proof of deeds; for he too showed his love not by words only, but also by deeds. Show this, then, you too by works, and do what pleases him; for so you yourself will reap the gain again. For he needs nothing from us; which is above all a mark of genuine love, that one who needs nothing and is in no want does everything in order to be loved by us. That is why Moses said, "For what does the Lord your God ask of you, but to love him and to be ready to walk after him?" [Deut 10:12]. So when he bids you love him, then above all he shows that he loves you. For nothing so establishes our salvation as loving him. See, at any rate, that all his commands too tend to our rest and salvation and good repute. For when he says, "Blessed are the merciful, blessed are the pure in heart, blessed are the meek, blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are the peacemakers" [Matt 5:3–9], he gives these commands needing nothing himself; and when he says, "I was hungry" [Matt 25:35], it is not because he needs our service, but to anoint you for kindness. For he could feed the poor man even without you; but bestowing on you the greatest treasure, he gave these commands. For if the sun, being a creature, does not need our eyes (for it keeps its own brightness even if no one looks at it), but we are the ones who gain when we enjoy its ray, much more does this hold of God. And so that you may learn this from another side too, hear: how great do you think the distance is between God and us? As great as between gnats and us, or much more? Plainly much more, and infinite. If, then, we who are vainglorious do not need help or glory from gnats, much more the Godhead, being both impassible and without need. He enjoys us, then, so far as we are benefited, so far as he delights in our salvation. For this reason in many places too he lets go what is his and seeks what is yours.

"For if anyone," he says, "has an unbelieving wife, and she consents to live with him, [let him not put her away]" [1 Cor 7:12]; [and, "Whoever puts away his wife,] except on account of sexual immorality, makes her commit adultery" [Matt 5:32]. Do you see unspeakable goodness? If the wife is a prostitute, he says, I do not compel you to live with her; but if she is an unbeliever, I do not forbid it. [Again, if you are grieved with someone, I bid the one who grieved you leave my gift and run to you.] For "if you are offering your gift," he says, "and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift before the altar, and go, first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" [Matt 5:23–24]. And what of the parable of the one who had devoured everything? Does it not show this? For when he had devoured the ten thousand talents, he had mercy on him and released him; but when he demanded a hundred denarii from his fellow servant, he both called him wicked and handed him over to punishment [Matt 18:23–35]: so much account does he make of your rest. The barbarian was about to sin with the wife of the righteous man, and he says, "I spared you from sinning against me" [Gen 20:6]. Paul was persecuting the apostles, and he says to him, "Why do you persecute me?" [Acts 9:4]. Others are hungry, and he says that he himself is hungry, and goes about naked and a stranger [Matt 25:35–36], wishing to shame you and in this way to bring you to the work of almsgiving. Considering, then, the love which he has shown and shows through all things, having deigned to make himself known to us, which is the greatest sum of good things, and light of the mind, and teaching of virtue; and having laid down a life pleasing to him, and having done everything for us, and having given his Son, and promised a kingdom, and calling us to the unspeakable good things, and preparing for us a most blessed life, let us do and say everything so as to appear worthy of his love and to obtain the good things to come; which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, with the Holy Spirit, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.