Homilies on Colossians 1.6–2.4

If you want to see the guests themselves too, you will see these being inwardly what the others are outwardly: blind, maimed, lame; and as are the bodies of the latter, such are the souls of the former, gripped by dropsy and inflammation. For such is arrogance: after luxury comes maiming; such are surfeit and drunkenness, making men lame and crippled. And you will see the others having such souls as those have bodies: bright and adorned. For those who live in thanksgiving, who seek nothing beyond what suffices, who live by such philosophy, are in all cheerfulness. Let us look at the end, both here and there. There, unbridled pleasure, loose laughter, drunkenness, buffoonery, obscene talk; for since they themselves are ashamed to utter obscenities, this is done through the harlots. Here, kindness and gentleness. Beside the one who invites those men stands vainglory, arming him; beside the one here, kindness and gentleness. For the one table is established by kindness, and the other by vainglory and cruelty, born of injustice and greed. And the latter ends in what I said: arrogance, frenzy, madness; for such is the fruit of vainglory. But the former ends in thanksgiving and the glory of God. The praise that comes from men is greater for this one too; for that man people even envy, but this one all regard as a common father, even those who have not been well treated. Just as, when people are wronged, even those who have suffered no wrong grieve with them, and all become common enemies of the wrongdoer, so too, when people are well treated, even those not well treated praise and admire the benefactor just as those who were. There envy is great; here great solicitude, many prayers from all. So it is here; but there, when Christ comes, this man will stand with great confidence and will hear before the whole world, “I saw you hungry, and you fed me; naked, and you clothed me; a stranger, and you took me in,” and all such things; but that man will hear the opposite: “Wicked and slothful servant”; and again, “Woe to those who live wantonly on their couches, and sleep on beds, and anoint themselves with the finest ointments, who reckoned these things as lasting, and not as fleeting.” These things have not been said by us idly, but to change your mind, so that you may do nothing unprofitable. “What then,” he says, “if I do both these and those?” This saying is common among everyone. And what necessity is there, tell me, when it is possible to do everything profitably, to divide, and to spend some not only on nothing needful but even in vain, and the rest profitably? Tell me, if in sowing you threw some seed on rock and some on the best soil, would this have satisfied you, and would you have said, “What harm is it if we throw some in vain and some on the best soil?” Why not all on the best? Why do you lessen the gain? If you had to gather money, you would not say this, but would gather from every side; but there it is no longer so. If you had to lend, you would not say, “Why not give some to the needy and some to the well-off?”, but you would give it all to the latter. But here, where the gain is so great, why do you not reckon this, and at last stop spending in vain and squandering to no purpose? “But this too has a gain,” he says. What, tell me? “It increases friendships.” Nothing is colder than people who become friends from these things, from the table and the surfeit of parasites; nothing is more unpleasant than a friendship that takes its beginning from there. Do not insult so wonderful a thing as love, nor say that this is its root. It is as if someone said of a tree bearing gold and precious stones that its root was not of the same kind, but that it was born from rot: so you too do. For even if a friendship is born from this, nothing could be colder than it. But those tables make friendship, not with men but with God, and an intense one, when they are made intensely. For he who spends some here and some there, even if he gives much, has done nothing great; but he who spends all here, even if he has given little, has accomplished everything. For what is asked is not to give much or little, but not less than one's own means. Let us consider the man with the five talents and the man with the two; let us consider the widow in the days of Elijah. That woman who cast in the two mites did not say, “What harm is it if I keep one mite for myself and give the other?”, but she gave her whole living. But you, being in such abundance, are more sparing than she. Let us not, then, neglect our own salvation, but apply ourselves to almsgiving. For nothing is better than this; the time to come will show it, and meanwhile the present time has shown it. Let us then live for the glory of God and do what pleases him, so that we may be counted worthy of the promised good things, which may we all attain by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might and honour, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

[Homily 2] “For this reason we also, since the day we heard, do not cease praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, that you may walk worthily of the Lord to all pleasing, bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God.” “For this reason”: what reason? Because we heard of your faith and love; because we have good hopes, we are hopeful enough to ask also concerning the things to come. For just as in contests we rouse most those who are near victory, so Paul exhorts most those who have accomplished the greater part. “Since the day we heard,” he says, “we do not cease praying for you.” We pray for you not one day, nor two, nor three. Here he both shows his love and quietly hints that they have not yet reached the goal; for “that you may be filled” is the language of one who shows this. And see, I pray, the understanding of this blessed man: nowhere does he say that they were deprived of everything, but that something was lacking to them everywhere; for this is what “that you may be filled” shows. And again, “to all pleasing, in every good work”; and again, “strengthened with all power”; and again, “to all endurance and longsuffering.” For “all” is the language of one who bears witness that they are succeeding, even if not in everything. And “that you may be filled,” he says, not “that you may receive,” for they had received; but that what was lacking may be filled up. So the reproof gave no offence, and the praise did not let them sink down and grow careless, as it would have done had it been unqualified. What is “that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will”? That is, that you must be brought near through him, no longer through angels. That you must be brought near, you knew; but it remains for you to learn this too, and why he sent the Son. For if we had to be saved through angels, he would not have sent the Son, he would not have given him up. “In all wisdom,” he says, “and spiritual understanding.” For since the philosophers were deceiving them, I want you, he says, to be in spiritual wisdom, not according to the wisdom of men. And if spiritual wisdom is needed to learn the will of God, to learn what his essence is needs continual prayers. And he shows here that Paul has been praying from that time, and has not yet accomplished it, and has not desisted; this is what “since the day we heard” shows. And it brings great condemnation on them if, though helped by prayers from that time, they did not recover themselves. “And asking,” he says, that is, with great earnestness; for this is what is shown by “you knew” — but you must also come to know fully. “That you may walk worthily of the Lord.” Here he speaks of life and works; for this he does everywhere: he always yokes conduct to faith. “To all pleasing, bearing fruit in every good work, and growing in the knowledge of God.” Just as, he says, he revealed himself to you all at once, and you received such great knowledge, so also display conduct worthy of the faith; for it requires great conduct, much greater than the old dispensation did. For he who knows God, and has been deemed worthy to be the slave of God, or rather a son too — see how much virtue he needs. “Strengthened with all power.” Here he speaks of the trials and the persecutions: we pray that you may be filled, being strengthened, so as not to grow weary or give up. “According to the might of his glory”: that you may take up such zeal, he says, as befits the strength of his glory to give. “To all endurance and longsuffering.” What he says is this: in short, he says, we pray that you may have a virtuous life, worthy of your calling, and may stand … For the present he does not yet touch on doctrines, but busies himself with their life, where he had nothing to charge them with; and having praised them for what he ought, he then comes down to accusation. This he does everywhere: when he is about to write to people with whom he has something to find fault and also something to praise, he praises first and then comes down to the charges. For he first wins the hearer over, frees the accusation from all suspicion, and shows that he himself would have liked to praise throughout, but was brought to these words by necessity. This he does in the First Letter to the Corinthians too: having praised them in countless ways as men who loved him, he then comes down to accusation, starting from the man who committed sexual immorality. In the Letter to the Galatians it is no longer so, but the opposite; or rather, if one examines it, there too the accusation comes out of praise. For since at that time he had no achievement of theirs to speak of, and the charge was serious, and all had been corrupted, and they were able to bear it because they were strong, he begins with accusation, saying, “I marvel”; so that this too is praise. Afterwards he praises them, not for the present but for the past, saying, “If possible, you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me.”

“Bearing fruit,” he says: this refers to works. “Strengthened”: this refers to trials. “To all endurance and longsuffering”: longsuffering toward one another, endurance toward those outside. For one is longsuffering toward those on whom it is possible to retaliate, but one endures those on whom one cannot retaliate. That is why endurance is never said of God, but longsuffering often, as this blessed man himself says, writing elsewhere: “Or do you despise the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering?” “To all”: not now, and afterwards no longer. “In all,” he says, “spiritual wisdom and understanding.” For otherwise it is not possible to know his will. And yet they thought they had his will; but their wisdom was not spiritual. “That you may walk,” he says, “worthily of the Lord.” For this becomes the road to the best conduct. For he who has thoroughly learned God's lovingkindness — and he learns it if he sees the Son given up — will have greater zeal. And besides, we pray not only that you may learn this, but that you may also display it in works; for he who knows without doing is going to be punished as well. “That you may walk,” he says: that is, always, not once but continually. Just as walking is necessary for us, so is living rightly. And he always calls this a walk, rightly, showing that this is the life set before us; but the worldly life is not of this kind. And the praise is great: “that you may walk,” he says, “worthily of the Lord,” and “in every good work,” so as always to advance and never to stand still; and, by a metaphor, “bearing fruit and growing in the knowledge of God,” so that you may thus be strengthened according to the strength of God, as far as was possible for a human being. “Through his might.” The consolation is great. He did not say power but “might,” which is greater. “Through the might,” he says, “of his glory,” because his glory prevails everywhere. Already he has consoled those who were under reproach. And again: “that you may walk worthily of the Lord.” He says this about the Son, that he prevails everywhere, both in heaven and on earth, because his glory reigns everywhere. Not simply strengthened, he says, but as befits those who serve so mighty a Master. “In the knowledge of God.” At the same time he touches on the question of knowledge; for this is what it is to have gone astray: not to know God as one ought. Or he means: so as to advance in the knowledge of God. For if he who does not know the Son does not know the Father either, there is rightly need of knowledge; for there is no profit in a good life without it. “To all endurance and longsuffering,” he says, “giving thanks to God with joy.” Then, when he is about to exhort them, he does not mention the things that are to be laid up for them — he hinted at this at the beginning, saying, “because of the hope laid up for you in heaven” — but here he mentions the things already given; for these are the causes of those. He does this in many places; for things already done carry more conviction and win the hearer more. “With joy,” he says, “giving thanks to God.” The sequence is this: we do not cease praying for you, and giving thanks for the former things. Do you see how he leads himself into the discourse about the Son? For if we give thanks with great joy, the things spoken of are great. For it is possible to give thanks out of fear alone; it is possible to give thanks even while in grief, as Job gave thanks, but in pain; that is why he said, “The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away.” Let no one say that what happened did not grieve him or plunge him into despondency, and let not the great praise be taken from the righteous man. But when things are of this kind, we give thanks not out of fear, nor only because God is Master, but because of the very nature of the things. “Giving thanks to him who made us sufficient for the share of the lot of the saints in the light.” He uttered a great thing. Such are the things given, he says, that he not only gave them, but also made us strong to receive them. By saying “who made us sufficient,” he showed the great weight of it. For example, if some lowly person becomes even a king, he can give a prefecture to whomever he wishes; and he can do only so much, give the rank, but not also make the man fit for the office (and often the honour makes such a man ridiculous). But if he both gives the rank and makes him fit for the honour and capable of the administration, then the thing is an honour. This, then, is what he says here too: that he not only gave us the honour, but also made us strong to receive it. For this is a double honour, both to give and to make men fit for the gift. He did not simply say “who gave,” but “who made us sufficient for the share of the lot of the saints in the light,” that is, who ranked us with the saints. But he did not simply say “who ranked,” but also implied that he granted us to enjoy the same things. For the share is what each one receives. It is possible to be in the same city and not enjoy the same things; but to have the same share and not enjoy the same things is impossible. It is possible to be in the same lot and not have the same share: for example, we are all in the lot, but we do not all have the same share. Here, however, he does not say this, but also the share along with the lot. And why does he call it a lot? To show that no one obtains the kingdom by his own achievements; but just as a lot is rather a matter of good fortune, so it is here too. For no one displays such conduct as to be deemed worthy of the kingdom; the whole is of his gift. That is why he says, “When you have done all things, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; for we have done what we ought to do.’” “For the share of the lot of the saints in the light,” that is, in knowledge. He seems to me to speak of the present and the future together. Then he shows what we have been deemed worthy of. For this is not the only marvel, that we are deemed worthy of the kingdom; one must also add who we were when this happened, for it is not the same thing. He does this in the Letter to the Romans too, saying, “For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; though perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die.” “Who delivered us,” he says, “from the authority of darkness.” The whole is his, to give both these things and those; for nowhere is it an achievement of ours. “From the authority of darkness,” he says, that is, of error, of the devil's tyranny. He did not simply say “darkness” but “authority”; for it had great authority over us and held us in its power. It is grievous merely to be under the devil; but to be under him with authority as well is more grievous. “And transferred us,” he says, “into the kingdom of the Son of his love.” So he did not show his lovingkindness only in the deliverance from darkness. Great indeed it was to free us from darkness; but to bring us into the kingdom as well is far greater. See then how manifold the gift becomes: that he freed us when we lay at the bottom; that he did not only free us, but also transferred us into the kingdom. “Who delivered us.” He did not say “cast out,” but “delivered,” showing our great wretchedness and the captivity in which they held us. Then also the ease of God's power: “and transferred,” he says, as if one moved a soldier from place to place. And he did not say “led over” or “removed” (for then the whole would have been the work of the one who removed, not of the one who moved), but he said “transferred,” so that this becomes both ours and his. “Into the kingdom of the Son of his love.” He did not simply say “the kingdom of heaven,” but made the word more solemn by saying “the kingdom of the Son”; for there is no greater praise than this. He says this elsewhere too: “If we endure, we shall also reign with him.” He has deemed us worthy of the same things as the Son, he says; and not only this, but there is also the intensification, “the beloved.” The enemies, those who were in darkness, he transferred all at once to where the Son is, to the same honour as he. And he was not content with this alone; but to show that the gift was great, he was not content to say “kingdom,” but added “of the Son”; and not with this, but added “of the beloved”; and not with this, but added also the dignity of his nature. For what does he say? “Who is the image of the invisible God.” But he did not come to this at once; he first inserted the benefit toward us. For lest, hearing that the whole was the Father's, you should think the Son was outside it, he gives the whole to the Son too, as he gives it to the Father. The one transferred us, but the other supplied the cause. For what does he say? “Who delivered us from the authority of darkness.” This is the same as “in whom we have the redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” For if we had not been forgiven our sins, we would not have been transferred. See, here again is the “in whom.” And he did not say “ransom” but “redemption,” so that we might no longer fall, nor become mortal. “Who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” We are coming upon a question raised by heretics; that is why we are putting it off today, and must add it tomorrow, bringing it to your ears while they are fresh. And if something more must be said, the work of the Son is the greater. How? Because it was impossible to give a kingdom to those remaining in their sins; but in this way it became easier, so that he prepared the way for the gift. What do you say? He himself forgave you your sins; so he himself also brought you near. Already he has laid down beforehand the root of the doctrine.

For the present, having said one thing more, I must end the discourse. What is it? That, having enjoyed so great a benefit, we ought always to remember it, to turn God's gift over in ourselves continually, and to consider what we have been freed from and what we have obtained; and so we will be thankful, so we will intensify our love toward him. What do you say, man? You have been called to a kingdom, to the kingdom of the Son of God; if you had to leap into ten thousand deaths every day, ought you not to endure everything? For an office you do anything whatever; but when you are about to share in the kingdom of the Only-begotten, do you not throw yourself on ten thousand swords, do you not leap into fire? And this is not yet the terrible thing; but that even when you are about to depart you lament and linger among the things here, loving the body. What is this? Do you even think death a dreadful thing? Luxury is the cause of these things, and ease; for one who lives a very bitter life would choose even to grow wings and be rid of this place. But as it is we suffer the same as fledglings grown soft, who want to stay always in the nest. But the longer we stay, the weaker we will be. For the present life is a nest, stuck together from twigs and mud. Even if you show me the great houses, even the very palaces gleaming with much gold and precious stones, I will think them no different from a swallows' nest; for when winter comes, all will fall of themselves. By winter I mean that day; not a winter for all. For God too calls that time both night and day, the one with respect to sinners, the other with respect to the righteous; so I too now call it winter. If in the summer we are not nourished well, so as to be able to fly when winter comes, our mothers will not take us, but will leave us to perish of hunger, or to be destroyed when the nest falls. For like a nest, or rather more easily than a nest, God will then pull everything down, dismantling and reshaping everything. And those who are unfledged and unable to meet him in the air, but so earthbound that they have no light wing, will suffer all that those so disposed are likely to suffer. The swallows' nest, when it falls, quickly perishes; but we will not perish, but will be punished continually. That time will be a winter, or rather more grievous than winter. For not torrents of water but rivers of fire sweep down; not darkness from clouds, but darkness unbroken and without light, so that one sees neither the sky nor the air, but is more cramped than those buried in the earth. We say these things often, but we do not persuade some. And there is nothing marvellous in it if we, who are worthless men, experience this when we speak of such things, since the prophets too experienced it, speaking not only of such things but also of war and captivity. Zedekiah was rebuked by Jeremiah and was not ashamed. That is why the prophets said, “Woe to those who say, ‘Let what God will do draw near quickly, that we may see it; and let the counsel of the Holy One of Israel come, that we may know it.’” Let us not marvel at this. For neither did those in the days of the ark believe; they believed when there was no profit in believing. Nor did those in Sodom expect it; they too believed when it was of no further use to them. And why do I speak of the things to come? Who would have expected the things happening now in various places, the earthquakes, the destructions of cities? And yet these things are more credible than those, I mean the events of the ark. How is that clear? Because those people had no other example to look to, nor had they heard the Scriptures; but with us countless such things have happened, both in our own years and in former times. But where does the unbelief of such people come from? From a soft soul: they drank and ate, and that is why they did not believe. For what a man wishes, he also supposes and expects. Those who speak against it say it is idle talk.