Homilies on Hebrews 11.1–11.4

“For when God made a promise to Abraham, since he had no one greater by whom to swear, he swore by himself, saying, Surely blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply you. And so … For men swear by the greater, and for them an oath for confirmation is an end of every dispute.” Having attacked the Hebrews vigorously and frightened them sufficiently, he first consoles them with praise, and second, which is stronger, with their certainly obtaining what they hoped for. And he makes the encouragement not from present things but again from past ones, which persuaded them the more. For just as in punishment he frightens them more through those examples, so in rewards too he encourages them through these, showing God’s custom; and this is, not to bring the promises quickly, but after a long time. And he does this both to bring forward the greatest proof of his own power and to lead us to faith, so that those who live in affliction and do not receive the promises nor the rewards may not give up in their labors. And passing over all others, though he had many to speak of, he brought Abraham into the midst, both because of the dignity of the person and because this happened above all in his case. And yet at the end of the epistle he says that “all these, having seen them from afar and greeted them, did not receive the promises, so that they should not be made perfect without us.” “For when God made a promise to Abraham,” he says, “since he had no one greater by whom to swear, he swore by himself, saying, Surely blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply you. And so, having patiently waited, he obtained the promise.” How then does he say at the end that “they did not receive the promises,” but here that “having patiently waited, he obtained the promise”? How did he not receive, and how did he obtain? He does not speak about the same things here and there, but makes his encouragement double. He promised Abraham; and the things here he gave after a long time, but those there, not yet. “And so, having patiently waited, he obtained the promise.” Do you see that it was not the promise alone that accomplished everything, but patience too? Here he frightens them, showing that … And this he showed through the people; for since they lost heart, for this reason they did not obtain the promise at all; and he shows the contrary through Abraham. Then at the end he does something more; for he shows that even having waited patiently they did not obtain it, and not even so are they distressed. “For men swear by the greater, and for them an oath for confirmation is an end of every dispute; but God, since he had no one greater by whom to swear, swore by himself.” Well said. Who then is the one who swore to Abraham? Is it not the Son? No, one says. From where do you say this? Indeed it is he above all; yet I do not dispute it. When, then, he himself swears the same oath, “Amen, amen, I say to you,” is it not plain that it is because he has no one greater by whom to swear? For just as the Father swore, so too the Son swears by himself, saying, “Amen, amen, I say to you.” Here he reminds them of those oaths of Christ, which he continually spoke: “Amen, amen, I say to you, he who believes in me will never die.” What is “and for them an oath for confirmation is an end of every dispute”? In place of: by this the doubt of every dispute is resolved; not of this one or that, but of every one. God ought to be believed even without an oath. “In which God, wishing more abundantly,” he says, “to show to the heirs of the promise the unchangeableness of his counsel, interposed with an oath.” Here he includes the believers too; for this reason he mentions this promise too, which was made to us in common. “He interposed,” he says, “with an oath.” Here again he says that the Son became a mediator between men and God. “So that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie.” What things? His saying and promising, and his adding an oath to the promise. For since among men this, the oath, seems more trustworthy, for this reason he added it too.

Do you see that he does not look to his own dignity, but how he may persuade men, and bears to have unworthy things said about himself, that is, wishing to give full assurance? And in the case of Abraham he shows that the whole was of God, not of his patience, since he even bore to add an oath. And by what men swear, by that God too swore, that is, by himself. But they swear as by one greater, while he not as by one greater; and nevertheless he did it. For it is not the same for a man to swear by himself and for God; for a man has no authority over himself. You see, then, that this was said to us rather than to Abraham. “We may have strong encouragement,” he says, “we who have fled …” And here again, “having patiently waited, he obtained the promise.” “Now,” he says; and he did not say, “Since he swore.” And what an oath is, he made plain by saying, to swear by the greater. But since the human race is unbelieving, he comes down to the same things as we. Just as, then, he swears for our sake, though not to be believed is unworthy of him, so too he said, “He learned from what he suffered,” since men think this the more trustworthy, to come through experience. What is “the hope set before us”? From these things, he says, we infer the things to come; for if these came to pass after so long a time, those too will certainly. So what was done for Abraham assures us about the things to come too. “Which we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure … the veil, where a forerunner has entered for us, Jesus, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.” He shows those who are still in the world and have not yet departed from life as being already among the things promised; for through hope we are already in heaven. He said, Wait, for it will certainly be. Then, giving full assurance, he says: or rather, by hope you have already obtained it. And he did not say, “We are within,” but, “It has entered within,” which was truer and more persuasive. For just as the anchor, fastened to the ship, does not let it be carried about, even if countless winds shake it, but, being fastened, makes it steady, so too does hope. And see how very fitting an image he found. For he did not say a foundation, which was unsuitable, but an anchor. For what is on the swell, and does not seem very firmly established, stands on the water as on land, and is shaken and yet not shaken. For in the case of the very firm … and wise, Christ rightly set that image, saying, “who built his house on the rock”; but in the case of those who are giving up and who must be sustained by hope, Paul suitably set this one. For the storm and the great tempest shake the vessel; but hope does not let it be carried about, even if countless winds shake it. So if we did not have this, we would long ago have been sunk. And not in spiritual things only, but also in the things of this life one would find its strength great; for example, in trade, in farming, in soldiering; for unless one sets this before himself at once, he would not even put his hand to the work. And he did not say simply an anchor, but “sure and steadfast,” to show the unfailing salvation of those who rest on it; that is why he adds, “entering into the inner side of the veil.” What is this? In place of, penetrating into heaven. Then he added faith too, so that it might be not only hope, but very true. For after the oath he sets down another thing too, the proof through deeds, that “a forerunner has entered for us, Jesus.” And a forerunner is a forerunner of some, as John was of Christ. And he did not say simply “has entered,” but “where a forerunner has entered for us,” as though we too must arrive. For the distance between the forerunner and those who follow ought not to be great; otherwise he would not be a forerunner. For the forerunner and those following must be on the same road, the one going ahead, the others overtaking. “Having become a high priest,” he says, “forever, according to the order of Melchizedek.” See another encouragement too, since our high priest is above, and much better than those among the Jews, not only in manner, but also in place and tabernacle and covenant and person. And this too is said in respect of the flesh.

3. Those, then, whose priest he is must be much better too; and just as the difference between Aaron and Christ is great, so great is the difference between us and the Jews. For see: we have the victim above, the priest above, the sacrifice above. Let us, then, offer such sacrifices as can be offered on that altar: no longer sheep and oxen, no longer blood and the savor of fat; all these have been done away, and in their place the reasonable worship has been brought in. And what is the reasonable worship? What is through the soul, what is through the spirit (“God is spirit,” he says, “and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth”); whatever does not need a body, whatever does not need instruments, nor places; such as gentleness, self-control, almsgiving, forbearance, patience, humility. These sacrifices one may see foreshadowed of old in the Old Testament too. “Offer to God,” says David, “a sacrifice of righteousness”; and again, “I will offer you a sacrifice of praise”; and, “A sacrifice of praise will glorify me”; and, “A sacrifice to God is a broken spirit”; and, “What does the Lord require of you but to listen to him?” “Burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not delight in. Then I said, See, I have come to do your will, O God”; and again, “Take away from me the sound of your songs, and the music of your instruments I will not hear”; but in place of these, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” Do you see with what sacrifices God is pleased? Do you see that already of old some had given way and others had come in in their place? Let us, then, offer these. For those belong to wealth and to those who have it, but these to virtue; those are outward, these inward; those even an ordinary man could perform, these few. By as much as a man is better than a sheep, by so much is this sacrifice better than that; for here you offer your soul as the victim. And there are other victims too, truly whole burnt offerings, the bodies of the holy martyrs; there both soul and body are holy; those have a great fragrance of sweet savor. You too can, if you will, offer such a sacrifice. For what if you do not burn your body with fire? You can with another fire, for example, that of voluntary poverty, that of affliction. For when one may live in luxury and extravagance, to choose a toilsome and very bitter life, and to put the body to death, [is this not a whole burnt offering?] … crucify it, and you too will receive the crown of this martyrdom. For what the sword does there, let eagerness do here. Let this absurd desire not burn, but be quenched by the fire of the Spirit, and be cut down by the sword of the Spirit. This is a fine sacrifice, needing no priest, but only the one who offers it; a fine sacrifice, performed below but at once taken up above. Do we not marvel that the fire of old came down and consumed everything? It is possible now too for a fire to come down much more wonderful than that, and to consume all that is laid out; or rather not to consume, but to lead it up to heaven; for it does not make them ashes, but brings them as gifts to God. Such were the offerings of Cornelius: “For your prayers,” it says, “and your alms have gone up as a memorial before God.” Do you see an excellent pairing? Then we are heard, when we too hear the poor who come to us. “He who stops his ears,” it says, “so as not to hear the poor man, God will not hear his prayer.” “Blessed is he who considers the poor and needy; in the evil day the Lord will deliver him.” And this day is no other than that day which becomes evil for sinners. What is “he who considers”? He who understands what a poor man is, who learns his affliction thoroughly; for he who has learned his affliction will certainly and at once have mercy on him. When you see a poor man, do not run past, but at once consider what you would be if you were he. Would you not have wished everyone to do everything? “He who considers,” he says. Consider that he is free like you, and shares the same nobility with you, and has all things in common with you; but this man, who has nothing less than you, you often do not even treat equal to your dogs. For they are filled with bread, while he often goes to sleep hungry; and the free man has become less honored than your slaves. “But they fulfill a need for us,” one says. What need, tell me? That they serve you well? If, then, I show that this man too fulfills a need … for he will stand by you on the day of judgment, he will snatch you from the fire. What such thing do all the slaves do? When Tabitha died, who raised her? Slaves standing around, or the poor? But you will not even treat the free man equal to your slaves. The cold is great, and the poor man is thrown on the ground in rags, dying of cold, chattering his teeth, by his look and his appearance able to move you; and you, warm and drunk, pass by; and how do you expect God to rescue you when you are in misfortune? And often you say this too: “If it were I, and I had caught someone who had sinned much, I would have let him go; and does God not let him go?” Do not say this; for you too overlook one who has sinned nothing against you, whom you are able to free. And if you treat such a man so, how will God let you go when you sin against him? Are not these things worthy of gehenna? And what wonder? A body often dead and senseless, no longer sensible of the honor, you wrap in countless garments, of many colors and shot with gold; but the [living body] that is cut to pieces and tortured … you give rather to vainglory than to the fear of God. And would that it stopped there! But at once there are accusations against the one who approaches: “Why does he not work?” he says. “… and why is he fed?” Tell me, do you have what you have by working? Did you not receive it as an inheritance from your father? And even if you work, do you reproach another for this? Do you not hear Paul saying, “But you, do not grow weary in doing good”? For he added this after saying, “Let him who does not work not eat.” “But he is an impostor,” one says.

What do you say, man? Do you call him an impostor for the sake of one loaf and a garment? “But he sells it at once,” one says. And do you manage all your own affairs well? And what? Are all poor from idleness? Is no one so from shipwrecks? No one from lawsuits? No one from theft? No one from dangers? No one from illnesses? No one from some other misfortune? But if we hear someone lamenting such things and crying out loudly, and looking up naked to heaven, with long hair and clothed in rags, at once we call him the impostor, the cheat, the dissembler. Are you not ashamed? Whom do you call an impostor? Give nothing, and do not accuse the man. “But he has means,” one says, “and puts on a show.” This is an accusation against you, not against him. He knows that he has to do with cruel men, with beasts rather than men, and that even if he utters a pitiable word, he draws no one; and for this reason he is compelled to put on a more pitiable appearance, so as to break your soul. If we see someone approaching in the dress of a free man, “This man is an impostor,” one says, “and he approaches so that he may seem to be of good family”; if we see him in the opposite dress … O cruelty! O harshness! “And why,” one says, “do they bare their maimed limbs?” Because of you. If we were merciful, they would not need these arts; if they persuaded at the first approach, they would not have contrived so many things. Who is so wretched as to wish to cry out so much, to wish to behave unseemly, to wish … to sprinkle himself with ashes along with his children? How much … these things worse than poverty? But for these things they are not only not pitied, but even accused by us. Shall we still be indignant, then, that when we entreat God we are not heard? Shall we still be vexed that … “But I have often given,” one says. And do you not always eat? And do you drive away your children when they often ask? O, the shamelessness! Do you call a poor man shameless? And you, when you seize, are not shameless; but he, when he asks for bread, is shameless? Do you not consider how great the necessity of the belly is? Do you not do everything for its sake? Do you not neglect spiritual things for its sake? Is not heaven set before you, and the kingdom of heaven? Yet you, fearing the tyranny of that [belly], endure everything, and do not despise it. This is shamelessness. Do you not see old men crippled? “But oh, the nonsense!” one says. “So-and-so lends out so many gold pieces, and So-and-so so many, and still begs.” You tell children’s fables and nonsense; for those too always hear such fables from their nurse. I am not persuaded, I do not believe it, God forbid. Does anyone lend money and, being in abundance, beg? Why, tell me? What is more unseemly than begging? It is better to die than to beg. How long shall we be harsh? What then? Do all lend money? Are they impostors? Is no one truly poor? “Yes,” one says, “and many.” Why then do you not help them, since you are an exact examiner of their lives? These are pretexts and excuses. “Give to everyone who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wishes to borrow from you”; “stretch out your hand, let it not be closed”; … since so we shall have mercy on no one. Why, when you entreat God, do you say, “Do not remember my sins”? So even if that man is a great sinner, reckon this in his case too, and do not remember his sins. It is the time for loving-kindness, not for exact examination; of mercy, not of reckoning. He wishes to be fed; if you wish, give; but if you do not wish, send him away without further questioning. Why are you wretched and miserable? Why do you not have mercy on him yourself, and also turn away those who wish to? For when someone hears from you, “This man is a cheat,” “that man a hypocrite,” “that one lends money,” he gives neither to these nor to those; for he suspects all to be such. For you know that we easily suspect evil things, but good ones no longer. Let us become merciful, not simply, but as our heavenly Father is. He feeds even adulterers and fornicators and sorcerers; and what am I saying? Those who have every kind of wickedness. For in so great a world there must be many such too; but nevertheless he clothes all; no one ever perished of hunger, unless willingly. So let us become compassionate; if one needs and is in necessity, help. But now we have come to such folly that we do this not only in the case of the poor who walk through the alleys, but also in the case of monks. “So-and-so is an impostor,” one says. Did I not say this the other day, that if we give to all without distinction, we shall always show mercy; but if we begin to inquire curiously, we shall never show mercy? What do you say? To get bread, he is an impostor? If he asks for talents of gold and silver, or costly garments, or slaves, or anything else, one might reasonably call him a cheat; but if nothing of these, but food and shelter, which belong to [the] wise [life], is this the mark of a cheat, tell me? … the satanic, the destructive [suspicion]. For if he says that he is enrolled in the clergy, or calls himself a priest, inquire, investigate; for there communion without examination is not without danger; for the danger concerns great things; but if he needs food, examine nothing; for you are not giving, but receiving. Examine, if you wish, how Abraham showed hospitality toward all who came. If he had been curious about those who took refuge with him, he would not have entertained angels; for perhaps, not thinking them angels, he would have driven them away with the others; but since he received all, he received angels too. For does God give you the reward from the life of those who receive? From your own will, from your own munificence, from your great loving-kindness, from your goodness; let this be, and you will obtain all the good things; which may we all obtain, by the grace and loving-kindness 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.