Homilies on Hebrews

Writing to the Romans, the blessed Paul says, “Inasmuch then as I am an apostle of the Gentiles, I glorify my ministry, if by any means I may provoke my flesh to jealousy”; and again elsewhere, “For he who worked in Peter for the apostleship of the circumcision worked also in me for the Gentiles.” If, then, he was an apostle of the Gentiles (for in the Acts too God says to him, “Go, for I will send you to the Gentiles”), what had he in common with the Hebrews? And why did he write to them? Moreover, they themselves were hostile toward him, and this can be seen from many places. Hear what James says to him: “You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed; and they have all been informed about you, that you teach apostasy from the law”; and many disputes often arose for him … Why then, someone might ask, did God not send to the Jews this man learned in the law (for he was trained in the law at the feet of Gamaliel, and he had great zeal for the matter), who for that very reason was best able to put them to shame? Because for that very reason they would have been all the more hostile to him. Foreseeing this, then, and that they would not bear with him, God says to him, “Go to the Gentiles, because they will not receive your testimony about me.” Then he himself says, “Yes, Lord, they know that I imprisoned and beat in the synagogues those who believed in you; and when the blood of Stephen your witness was being shed, I myself was standing by and consenting to his killing, guarding the garments of those who were killing him.” And he shows that this very thing was the sign and ground of their not believing him. And so it is: when someone deserts from a people, if he is one of the least and of no account, it does not much sting those whom he has left; but if he is one of the admired, very zealous and of their way of thinking, it grieves them most and pains them beyond measure, since by going over to others after deserting them he most of all pulls down their teaching. And something else besides this produced unbelief toward him. What was it? That Peter and those with him had been with Christ and had seen signs and wonders, whereas this man had enjoyed none of these things, but, being with the Jews, suddenly deserted and became one of them [the believers]; which was most able to exalt our cause. For those others seemed to bear witness out of favor, and someone might have said that they testified these things from longing for their teacher; but the one who bore witness to the resurrection was, above all, a man who had heard only a voice. That is why you see them fighting him furiously, and doing everything and raising tumults on this account, so as to kill him. But the unbelievers hated him for this reason; and why did those who had believed? Because, preaching to the Gentiles, he was compelled to preach Christianity purely; and if he was ever caught in Judea, he did not care. For Peter and those with him, since they preached in Jerusalem, where the zeal was great, were under necessity to command the keeping of the law; but this man was in great freedom. And those from the Gentiles were more numerous than the Jews, being outside; and this weakened the law, and they did not have so much reverence for it, because he preached everything purely. Indeed, in that passage they seem to shame him with their numbers, saying, “You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed?” For this reason they hated him and turned away from him, because, it says, “they have been informed about you, that you teach apostasy from the law” …

Why then does he, who was not the teacher of the Jews, write to them? And where were they when he wrote to them? In my opinion, in Jerusalem and Palestine. How then does he write? Just as he was not commissioned to baptize, and yet baptized (“For I was not sent,” he says, “to baptize”; yet he was not forbidden), but does it as a side matter. And how should he not write to those for whom he was even willing to become accursed? That is why he said, “Know that our brother Timothy has been released; with whom, if he comes soon, I will see you.” For he had not yet been arrested. He spent two years in Rome in bonds; then he was released; then he went to Spain; then he went to Judea, when he also saw the Jews; and then he came again to Rome, when he was also put to death by Nero. This epistle, then, is older than the one to Timothy. For there he says, “For I am already being poured out”; and there again he says, “At my first defense no one stood with me.” … writing he says, “You became imitators of the churches of Judea.” And writing to these very people he says, “You accepted with joy the plundering of your possessions” … and this he relaxed the law … them. If they treated the apostles so, not only in Judea but also where they were among the Gentiles, what would they not have done to the believers? That is why you see him caring for them especially. For when he says, “I am going to Jerusalem to minister to the saints”; and again when he urges the Corinthians to beneficence and says that the Macedonians had contributed, and says, “If it is fitting that I go too,” he means this. And when he says, “Only that we should remember the poor, which very thing I was also eager to do,” he means this. And when he says, “They gave me and Barnabas the right hands of fellowship, that we should go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcision,” he means this. And he says these things about the poor there not without purpose, but so that in this we too should share in the beneficence. “For we did not divide the care of the poor,” he says, “as we divided the preaching among ourselves, we to the Gentiles and they to the circumcision.” And everywhere you see Paul taking great care of them, and rightly. For among the other nations, where there were both Jews and Greeks, nothing of this sort happened; but there, since for a time they seemed to hold power and to govern themselves, and to administer many things by their own laws, the government not yet being settled nor wholly subject to the Romans, they naturally exercised great tyranny. For if even in other cities, as in Corinth, they beat the ruler of the synagogue before the proconsul’s judgment seat, and Gallio cared nothing for any of this, yet in Judea it was not so.

You see, at any rate, that in the other cities they bring them before the magistrates and ask the help of these and of the Gentiles; but here they took no thought for this, but they themselves seat a council and kill whomever they wish. So at any rate they killed Stephen; so they scourged the apostles, without bringing them before rulers; so too they would have killed Paul, had not the tribune thrown himself in. For this happened while the priests were still standing, while the temple, the worship and the sacrifices still stood. See at any rate Paul himself being judged before the priest and saying, “I did not know that he was high priest,” and this before the ruler. For they had great authority then. Consider, then, what those living in Jerusalem and Judea were likely to suffer. He, then, who prayed to become accursed for those who had not yet believed, and who so served the believers as to go himself, if need be, and who took great care of them everywhere, what wonder if he also exhorts and consoles them by letter, and raises them up when they were sinking and prostrate? For they were by now worn out and in despair through their many afflictions. And he shows this toward the end, saying, “Therefore lift up the drooping hands and the weakened knees”; and again, “Yet a very little while, and he who is coming will come and will not delay”; and again, “If you are without discipline, then you are illegitimate and not sons.” For since they were Jews and had learned from their fathers that they should expect both good things and bad close at hand, and so live, whereas now the reverse was the case, the good things lying in hopes and after death, and the bad things in hand, it was likely that many of them, having endured much, were losing heart; so he makes a long discourse about this. But these things we will resolve at the proper time; for the present, let it be said that he wrote to them of necessity, since he took such great care of them; for the reason why he was not sent to them is plain; he was not, then, prevented from writing. And that they were losing heart he shows by saying, “Lift up the drooping hands and the weakened knees, and make straight paths”; and again, “For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and love.” For the soul overtaken by many trials often turns aside even from faith. That is why he exhorts them to give heed to what they had heard, and not to have an evil heart of unbelief. That is why in this epistle especially he discourses at length about faith, and at the end shows many examples, that to those too good things were promised as though at hand, and he gave them nothing then. And besides these, so that they might not think themselves forsaken, he establishes these two things: one, for bearing nobly all that befalls; the other, for surely expecting the reward; for he will certainly not leave Abel’s company and the righteous after him without their prize. And he makes his exhortation in three ways: one, from what Christ suffered, as he himself says, “A servant is not greater than his master”; another, from the good things laid up for those who believe; and the third, from the evils. And this he supports not only from things to come, which was less persuasive, but also from things past, from what happened to their fathers. Christ too does this, saying at one time, “A servant is not greater than his master,” and again, “There are many dwellings with the Father,” and pronouncing countless woes on those who have not believed. He also discourses at length on the New and the Old Covenant; for this was very useful to him for faith in the resurrection. For so that they might not disbelieve that he rose because of what he suffered, he confirms it from the prophets, and shows that it is not the Jewish things that are venerable but ours; for the temple was still standing, and the sacrifices; that is why he also said, “Let us, then, go forth outside, bearing his reproach.” This too stood against him: for some would likely say, “If these things are a shadow, if these are an image, how is it that they have not given way nor withdrawn now that the truth has appeared, but still flourish?” And this too he quietly hinted would come about at the proper time. And that they had spent a long time in the faith and in afflictions, he made clear by saying, “For though by this time you ought to be teachers”; and, “Lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief”; and, “Become imitators of those who through [faith and] long-suffering …” … still the temple.

“In many parts and in many ways God spoke of old to the fathers by the prophets; but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom also he made the ages.” Truly, “where sin abounded, grace superabounded.” This at any rate is what the blessed Paul hints at here too, in the opening, writing to the Hebrews. For since it was likely that they, worn down and wasted by their troubles, and judging matters by these, would reckon themselves inferior to all others, he shows that in this very respect they had enjoyed a greater and far surpassing grace, rousing the hearer from the very beginning of his discourse. That is why he says, “In many parts and in many ways God spoke of old to the fathers by the prophets; in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son.” Why did he not set himself over against the prophets? And yet he was much greater than they, as much as greater things had been entrusted to him. But he does not do it. Why? First, because he declines to say great things about himself; second, because his hearers were not yet mature; and third, because he wished rather to lift them up and to show that the superiority was great. As if he said: What great thing is it that he sent prophets to our fathers? For to us he sent his only-begotten Son himself. And he rightly began by saying, “In many parts and in many ways”; for he shows that not even the prophets themselves saw God, but the Son did see him. For “in many parts and in many ways” means “in different ways.” “For I,” he says, “multiplied visions, and was represented by the hands of the prophets.” So the superiority lies not only in this, that prophets were sent to them but the Son to us, but in this, that none of them saw God, whereas the only-begotten Son saw him. And he does not state this at once, but establishes it through what follows, when he speaks about the humanity: “For to which of the angels did he ever say, You are my Son; and, Sit at my right hand?” And see his great wisdom: first he shows the superiority from the prophets; then, having established that as agreed, he declares that to them he spoke through the prophets, but to us through the Only-begotten. And if to them he spoke through angels too (for angels too conversed with the Jews), even in this we have the advantage, and by as much as we have the Master and they servants; for angels and prophets are fellow servants. And well did he say, “in the last days”; for this too rouses them and encourages them, when they were already worn out. For as he says elsewhere, “The Lord is near; do not be anxious about anything,” and again, “For now our salvation is nearer than when we believed,” so here too. What then is it that he says? That everyone who is spent in a contest, when he hears of the end of the contest, breathes again a little, knowing that it is the end of his labors and the beginning of his rest. “In these last days he has spoken to us in a Son.” See again: “in a Son,” he says, that is, “through the Son,” against those who say that this applies to the Spirit. Do you see that “in” means “through”? And “in the last days” again hints at something else. What is that? That after a long time had passed in between, when we were about to be punished, when the gifts had failed, when there was no expectation of salvation, when we expected on every side to have less, then we have received more. And see how wisely he said it. He did not say, “Christ spoke,” though he was the one who spoke; but since their souls were weak and not yet able to hear the things about Christ, he says, “He has spoken to us in a Son.” What do you say? Did God speak through the Son? Yes. Where then is the superiority? For here you have shown that both the New and the Old belong to one and the same God, but not that the superiority is great. That is why he goes on to pursue this in his discourse, saying, “He has spoken to us in a Son.” See how Paul makes it common and puts himself on a level with the disciples, saying, “He has spoken to us.” And yet he did not speak to him, but to the apostles, and through them to the many. But he lifts them up and shows that he spoke to them too, and at the same time he does not yet attack the Jews. For nearly all to whom the prophets spoke were wicked and polluted men. And he does not yet speak about these, but for the present about the gifts that God bestowed. That is why he adds, “whom he appointed heir of all things.” Here he speaks of the flesh, as David too says in the second psalm, “Ask of me, and I will give you the nations as your inheritance.” For no longer is Jacob the Lord’s portion, nor Israel his lot, but all. What is “whom he appointed heir”? That is, he made him Lord of all. Which Peter too said in the Acts: “God has made him both Lord and Christ.” And he has used the name of heir to show two things: the genuineness of the sonship and the inseparability of the lordship. “Heir of all things,” that is, of the whole world. Then he brings the discourse back again to the former point: “through whom also he made the ages.”

2. Where are those who say, “There was when he was not”? Then, going up by steps, he afterwards utters what is much greater than these, saying, “Who, being the radiance of his glory and the exact imprint of his substance, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had made purification of our sins by himself, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much better than the angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.” Oh, the apostle’s wisdom! Or rather, it is not Paul’s wisdom but the grace of the Spirit that one must admire here. For he did not utter these things from his own mind, nor did he find such wisdom of himself; for from where? From the knife and the hides, or the workshop? No, it was the work of divine power to speak so. For it was not his mind that gave birth to these thoughts, a mind then so lowly and humble as to have nothing more than the people of the market; for how could a mind spent on contracts and hides? It was the grace of the Spirit, which shows its strength through whomever it will. For just as, if someone wished to lead a little child up to some high place reaching to the very summit of heaven, he does it gently and little by little, leading it up by the steps from below; then, when he has set it on high and bidden it look down, and sees it growing dizzy, he brings it down again to a lower place, letting it breathe; then, when it has recovered, he leads it up again, and again brings it down; so did the blessed Paul do with the Hebrews and everywhere, having learned this from his Teacher. For he too did so, sometimes leading his hearers up to a height, sometimes bringing them down, and not letting them linger long at the same point. See him, at any rate, here too: by how many steps he led them up and set them on the very summit of godliness, and, before they grow dizzy and are seized with vertigo, how he brings them down again lower and, letting them breathe, says, “He has spoken to us in a Son,” and again, “He appointed him heir of all things.” For so far the name of Son is common. Where he is understood as a genuine Son, he is above all; but for the present, whatever he may be, he goes on to establish and show that he is from above. And see how he first stands on the lower step, saying, “whom he appointed heir of all things”; for “he appointed him heir” is lowly; then on the higher, adding, “through whom also he made the ages”; then on the higher still, beyond which there is no other: “who, being the radiance of his glory and the exact imprint of his substance.” Truly he has led them into light unapproachable, into the radiance itself. And before they are darkened, see how he again gently brings them down, saying, “and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had made purification of our sins by himself, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty.” He did not say simply, “He sat down,” but “after the purification he sat down.” For he has touched on the incarnation, and again utters lowly things. Then, having again uttered something lofty (“at the right hand,” he says, “of the Majesty on high”), he again utters something lowly by adding, “having become as much better than the angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.” For here he is discoursing about the dispensation according to the flesh. For “having become better” does not indicate the essence according to the Father (for that did not come to be, but was begotten), but that according to the flesh; for this came to be. But his discourse now is not about coming into being; rather, just as John, saying, “He who comes after me has become before me, because he was before me,” shows this, that he is more honored and more illustrious, so here too Paul, saying, “having become so much better than the angels,” showed that he is superior, and that “he has inherited a name.” Do you see that the discourse was about what is according to the flesh? For this name God the Word always had; he did not inherit it later, nor did he become better than the angels when he made purification of our sins; he was always better, and better beyond comparison. But this is said of what is according to the flesh. So too it is our custom, when we discuss man, to say both lofty and lowly things. For when we say, “Man is nothing,” “man is earth,” “man is ashes,” we name the whole from the worse part; but when we say, “Man is an immortal living being,” and “man is rational,” and “akin to the things above,” we again name the whole from the better part. So also concerning Christ, Paul speaks sometimes from the lesser, sometimes from the greater, wishing both to establish the dispensation and to teach about the incorruptible nature.

3. Since, then, he has made purification of our sins, let us remain pure and receive no stain, but let us be eager to guard the beauty and comeliness that he has put into us so undefiled and pure as to have no spot or wrinkle or any such thing. For even the small sins are a spot and a wrinkle: I mean, for example, reviling, insult, falsehood; or rather, not even these are small, but very great, and so great as to deprive us even of the kingdom of heaven. How, and in what way? “He who calls his brother a fool,” it says, “is liable to the gehenna of fire.” And if he who calls him “fool,” which seems the lightest of all and children’s talk, is liable, the one who calls him malicious and villain and envious, and pelts him with countless other reproaches, what penalty of punishment will he not undergo? What is more terrifying than this? But bear with the discourse, I beg you. For if he who does it to one of the least does it to him, and he who does not do it to one of the least does not do it to him, how is it not the same with praise and with accusation? For he who insults his brother has insulted God, and he who honors his brother honors God.

4. Let us train our tongue, then, to speak well; for “Keep your tongue,” it says, “from evil.” For God did not give it for this, that we might accuse, that we might insult, that we might slander one another, but that we might sing hymns to God, that we might say the things that give grace to the hearers, the things for building up, for profit. Have you spoken ill of someone? What do you gain? You have even got the name of slanderer. For there is no evil, there is none, that stops at the one who suffers it; it takes in the doer too. For example, the envious man seems to plot against another, but he himself is the first to reap the injustice, wasting away and being consumed and hated by all. The covetous man robs another of money, but also robs himself of being loved; or rather he makes himself spoken ill of by all. And “a good name is much better than riches”; for the one is not easy to wash off, whereas the others are easy to acquire; or rather, riches when absent do not harm the one who lacks them, but a good name when absent makes a man a reproach and a laughingstock, and an enemy and adversary to all. Again, the wrathful man first punishes himself, tearing himself to pieces, and only then the one with whom he is angry. So the slanderer first disgraces himself, and only then the man he slanders; or perhaps he cannot even do this, but goes away having gained the reputation of a polluted and despicable person, while making the other the more loved. For when the one who is spoken ill of does not defend himself in the same way, but praises and admires the other, he will be praising not him but himself. For just as, as I said before, slanders against our neighbors first touch those who plot them, so too the good done to our neighbors first gladdens those who do it. For whoever gives birth to good or evil naturally enjoys it first himself; and just as spring water, whether salt or sweet, fills the vessels of those who bring them and does not diminish the spring that sends it forth, so too vice and virtue, wherever they come from, gladden or destroy that person. And these things are here. But the things there, the good or the evil, what speech will describe them? There is none. For the good things surpass all understanding, not speech only; and the opposite things are spoken of with names familiar to us: for there is fire there, it says, and darkness and bonds and an undying worm. But it does not set forth only these things that are named, but others more grievous. And that you may learn this, consider this first at once. Tell me, if it is fire, how is it also darkness? Do you see that that fire is more grievous than this? For it has no light. If it is fire, how does it always burn? Do you see that it is more grievous than this? For it is not quenched; that is why it is called unquenchable. Let us consider, then, how great an evil it is to be burned forever, and to be in darkness, and to groan countless groans, and to gnash the teeth, and not even be heard. For if someone among those nobly reared, thrown into a prison here, says that the stench alone, and lying in darkness, and being bound with murderers, is harder than any death, consider what it is when with … neither being seen, but thinking themselves alone in so great a multitude. For the darkness and the absence of light do not let us recognize even those near us, but each will feel as though he alone suffered this. And if darkness by itself afflicts and troubles our souls, what will it be when together with the darkness there are so many pains and burnings? So I beg you to turn these things over continually within yourselves, and to bear the pain that comes from words, so that we may not undergo the punishment that comes through deeds. For all these things will certainly be, and those who have done things deserving of the punishments there no one will rescue, not father, not mother, not brother, however much boldness he has, however great his power with God. For a brother does not redeem …; for it is he who renders to each according to his works, and by these one can be saved or punished … “Make friends for yourselves by means of the mammon of unrighteousness.” Let us obey, then, for it is the Master’s commandment, and let us scatter the superfluities of our wealth among those in need; let us practice almsgiving while we are masters of it; for this is “making friends by means of mammon.” Let us empty out our money on the poor, that we may empty out that fire, that we may quench it, that we may have boldness there. For there it is not these who receive us, but our work. For that it is not simply their being our friends that can save, one can learn from the addition. For why did he not say, “Make friends for yourselves, that they may receive you into their eternal tents,” but added the manner as well? By saying, “by means of the mammon of unrighteousness,” he showed that it is fitting to make these friends with money, making clear that friendship will not simply stand by us unless we have good works, unless we justly empty out the wealth unjustly gathered. And this discourse of ours on almsgiving will fit not the rich only but the poor too. Even if someone is fed by begging, this discourse is for him too; for there is no one, there is no one so poor, however very poor, as not to have two lepta. It is possible, at any rate, giving little out of little, to surpass those who possess much and give more, like that widow. For the greatness of almsgiving is judged not by the measure of what is given, but by the means and the will of the givers. So everywhere we need the will, everywhere love toward God. If we do everything with this, even if, having little, we give little, God will not turn away his face, but will receive it as great and wonderful. For he looks to the will, not to the gifts; and if he sees that it is great, by it he casts his votes and gives his judgments, and makes us partakers of the eternal good things; which may we all obtain, by grace and loving-kindness …

Everywhere a reverent mind is needed, but especially when we say or hear something about God; for neither can the tongue speak nor the ear hear anything worthy of God. And why do I speak of tongue and ear? Not even the mind, which far surpasses these, will be able to … when we wish … For if the peace of God surpasses all understanding, and the things prepared for those who love him have not entered into the heart of man, much more does the God of peace himself, the Creator of all, surpass our reasoning by a great measure. We must, then, receive everything with faith and reverence; and when speech fails and cannot set forth with precision what is said, then above all we must glorify God, that we have such a God, one who surpasses both our understanding and our speech. For many of the things we understand about God we cannot express, and many we express but cannot understand. I mean, for example, that God is everywhere we know, but how, we no longer understand; that there is a bodiless power, the cause of all good things, we know, but how it is, we do not know. See, we express it and do not understand it. I said that he is everywhere, but I do not understand it; I said that he is without beginning, but I do not understand it; I said that he begot from himself, and again I do not know how I am to understand it. There are, then, some things that cannot even be expressed: I mean, the mind understands, but cannot say. And that you may know that Paul too is weak and speaks his comparisons without full precision, so that you may shudder and seek nothing further, listen. Having said “Son” and set him down as Creator, what does he add? “Who, being the radiance of his glory and the exact imprint of his substance.” This must be taken with reverence, and what is absurd must be cut away. “The radiance of his glory,” he says. But see for what purpose he takes it, and so take it yourself too: that he is from him, that he is so without passion, that he is so without the Father being diminished or lessened. For there are some who take absurd things from the comparison. “For the radiance,” they say, “does not subsist in itself, but has its being in another.” Do not, then, take it this way, man, and do not fall sick with the disease of Marcellus and Photinus. For he heals you at close quarters, so that you do not fall into that thought, and does not let you be carried down into that deadly sickness. What does he say? “And the exact imprint of his substance,” showing by the addition that just as the Father subsists in himself and needs nothing for his subsistence, so too does the Son. For he says this here showing his exact likeness, sending you to the distinctive imprint of the original, and teaching that he exists in his own substance by himself. And having said above that through him God made all things, here he gives him full authority. For what does he add? “And upholding all things by the word of his power,” so that from this we may understand not only his substance but also that he governs all things with full authority. See, then, how what is proper to the Father he attaches to the Son. That is why he did not say simply, “upholding all things,” nor did he say, “by his power,” but “by the word of his power.” For as earlier he led us up little by little and brought us down, so now too, as by certain steps, he goes up to the height and then comes down again, and says, “through whom also he made the ages.” See how here too he cuts two roads. For wishing to lead us away from the innovation of Sabellius and of Arius, the one doing away with the distinctness of the hypostasis, the other cutting the one nature down into inequality, he overthrows both with abundant force. How then does he do this? He turns the same things up and down and speaks them, so that he may not be thought to be without a source, nor alien to God. And do not be surprised at what I say, beloved. For if, even after so much proof, there are some who have said that he is alien to him, and have given him another father, and say that he is at war with this one, if he had not said these things, what would they not have uttered? When, then, he is compelled to heal, he is then compelled also to speak lowly things, as, for example, “He appointed him heir of all things,” and “Through him he made the ages.” Then, so that harm may not come in another way, he leads him up again from the words of lowliness to full authority, and shows that he is equal in honor with the Father, and so equal in honor that many have thought him the same as the Father. And see his great wisdom: he sets down that first, and secures it with precision; and when this has been shown, that he is God’s Son and not alien to him, he then speaks freely all the lofty things he wishes. For since saying something great about him had led many into that notion, he first sets down the lowly things, and then goes up safely to the height, as far as he wishes; and having said, “whom he appointed heir of all things,” and that “through him he made the ages,” he then adds, “and upholding all things by the word of his power.” For he who governs all things by a word alone would not need anyone in order to bring all things into being.

And that this is so, see how, as he goes on, he again gives him full authority, taking away the “through whom.” For since God made through him what he wished, then, leaving that aside, what does he say? “In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the works of your hands.” Nowhere is there the “through whom,” nor that he made the ages through him. What then? Were they not made by him? Yes; but not as you say, nor as you suspect, as through an instrument, nor as though he would not have made them unless the Father had stretched out a hand to him. For just as the Father judges no one, and is said to judge through the Son, because he begot him a judge, so also he is said to create through him, because he begot him a creator. For if the Father is the cause of him, much more of the things made through him. When, then, he wishes to show that he is from him, he necessarily speaks lowly things; but when he wishes to speak lofty things, Marcellus and Sabellius take hold of them. But the church, avoiding the excess of both, has walked the middle road. For he neither stays with lowliness, so that Paul of Samosata may not find room, nor always remains with the lofty things; and he shows again his great nearness [to the Father], so that Sabellius may not leap in. He said “Son,” and at once Paul of Samosata stands up, saying that he is a son as the many are. But he dealt him a deadly blow by saying “heir.” But he is still shameless, together with Arius; for they say that “he appointed” belongs to weakness, and this one tries to press his case with what follows as well. But when Paul said, “through whom also he made the ages,” he threw the shameless Samosatene on his back, while Arius still seems to be strong. But see how he throws him down too, saying again, “who, being the radiance of his glory.” But see, Sabellius leaps in again, and Marcellus and Photinus. But to all of these too he gives one blow, saying, “and the exact imprint of his substance, and upholding all things by the word of his power.” Here again he strikes Marcion too, not very strongly, yet he strikes him all the same; for throughout the whole epistle he fights against them. But as I said, he has called the Son “the radiance of his glory”; and that he did so rightly, hear Christ saying about himself, “I am the light of the world.” And he said “radiance” for this reason, to show that it is said in that sense there too, clearly as light from light. And not only is this shown, but also that he has enlightened our souls. And by “radiance” he signified the equality of essence and the nearness to the Father. Consider the subtlety of what is said: he took one essence and substance to set forth two hypostases; which he does also in the case of the knowledge of the Spirit. For just as he says that the knowledge of the Father and of the Spirit is one, as being truly one, and in no way divided against itself, so here too he took hold of one word to make plain the two hypostases. Then he added, “and the exact imprint.” For the imprint is something other than the original, yet not other in every respect, but in subsisting by itself; since here too “imprint” shows the exact likeness to that of which it is the imprint, likeness in every respect. When, then, he calls him both “form” and “imprint,” what will they say? “But man too,” they say, “is called the image of an image.” What then? In the same way as the Son? “No,” he says, “but because ‘image’ does not show likeness.” And yet, inasmuch as man is called an image, it shows likeness as in a man. For what God is in heaven, that man is on earth; I mean in respect of rule: and just as he rules all things on earth, so God rules all things in heaven and on earth. But otherwise man is not called imprint, is not called radiance, is not called form; which shows the essence, or likeness in essence. Just as, then, “the form of a slave” shows nothing other than a man exactly alike, so too “the form of God” shows nothing other than God. “Who, being the radiance,” he says, “of his glory.” See what Paul does. Having said, “who, being the radiance of his glory,” he added again, “sat down at the right hand of the Majesty”: see what names he has used, nowhere finding a name for the essence itself. For neither “majesty” nor “glory” presents the name that he wishes to say; he cannot find a name. For this is what I said from the beginning, that we often understand things and cannot express them; for not even “God” is a name of the essence, nor is it possible at all to find a name of that essence. And what wonder if it is so with God, when not even in the case of an angel could anyone find a name indicating the essence? And perhaps not even in the case of the soul; for this name seems to me to set forth not its essence but its breathing. For one may see the same thing called both soul and heart and mind: “Create in me,” it says, “a clean heart, O God.” And not only these, but one may see it called spirit in many places too. “And upholding all things by the word of his power.” Do you see what he says?

How then, tell me, heretic, do you say, because Scripture says, “God said, Let there be light,” that the Father commanded and the Son obeyed? But see, here too he himself makes by a word: “upholding all things,” he says, that is, governing, holding together what would fall apart. For holding the world together is no less than making it, but, if one must say something remarkable, even greater. For the one is to bring something out of what is not; but the other, to hold together things that have come to be and would go back into non-being, and to join to one another things at variance, this is the great and wonderful thing, the proof of great power. Then, showing also the ease of it, he said “upholding.” He did not say “governing,” but used a metaphor from those who simply move something with a finger and make it go round. Here he showed both that the mass of creation is great, and that the great thing is nothing to him. Then again he shows that it is without toil, saying, “by the word of his power.” He said well, “by the word”; for since among us a word seems a bare thing, he shows that with God it is not bare. But that he upholds by a word, he said; how he upholds by a word, he did not add; for it is not possible to know. Then he added concerning his majesty. For so John too did: having said that he is God, he added his making of creation. For what he hinted at by saying, “In the beginning was the Word,” and, “All things came into being through him,” this Paul too made plain by “the word” and by saying, “through whom also he made the ages”; for he shows him to be both Creator and before all the ages. What then, when the prophet says about the Father, “From everlasting to everlasting you are,” and about the Son that he is before all the ages and the Creator of all, what would they say? Or rather, what was said about the Father, “He who is before the ages,” one may see said about the Son too. And just as John says, “He was life,” showing his power to hold creation together, that he is the life of all, so Paul too says, “upholding all things by the word of his power”; not as the Greeks do, who, as far as in them lies, deprive him both of the making itself and of providence, shutting up his power as far as the moon. “When he had made purification of our sins by himself,” he says. Having spoken of those wonderful and great things, the very highest, he then speaks also of his care for mankind. That too was indeed universal, “upholding all things”; but this is much greater. And this too is universal; for for his part he saved all. Since John too, having said, “He was life,” and having shown his providence, says again, “and light,” showing this very thing. “When he had made purification of our sins by himself,” he says, “he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” He sets down here two very great proofs of his care: that he purified us from our sins, and that he did this by himself. And in many places you see him glorying in this, not only in the reconciliation with God, but in its having come about through the Son; for so the great gift has become greater by being through the Son. For having said, “He sat down at the right hand,” and “when he had made purification of our sins by himself,” and having reminded them of the cross, he quickly brought in the account of the resurrection and the ascension. And see his unspeakable wisdom: he did not say, “He was commanded to sit,” but, “He sat down.” Then again, so that you may not think that he stands, he adds, “For to which of the angels did he ever say, Sit at my right hand?” “He sat down,” he says, “at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” What is “on high”? Does he enclose God in a place? Away with it! He did not say it so that we should suspect this; but just as by saying “at the right hand” he did not give him a shape, but showed his equality of honor with the Father, so by saying “on high” he did not shut him up there, but showed that he has risen above all things; as if he said, he has reached the Father’s very throne. Just as the Father, then, is on high, so is he too; for sitting together shows nothing other than equality of honor. And if they say that he said, “Sit,” let us ask them: What then? Did he say it to one who was standing? But they could not show this. Besides, it does not say that he ordered or commanded, but that he said, “Sit”; and this for no other reason than that you should not think him without source and without cause. For that he said it so for this reason is clear from the place of the seat; for if he had wished to indicate inferiority, he would not have said “at the right hand,” but “at the left.” “Having become as much better than the angels,” he says, “as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.” “Having become” here stands for “having been shown,” as one might say. Then he also makes it firm. From what? From the name. Do you see that he knows the name “Son” shows genuineness? Indeed, if it were not genuine, he would not have said this. How? Because he is genuine for no other reason than that he is from him. From this, then, he makes his argument firm. But if he is Son by grace, he is not only not more excellent, but even less than the angels. How? Because righteous men too were called sons, and the name “son,” unless he is genuine, cannot show the difference. And making plain that there is a difference between creatures and the Creator, hear what he says: “For to which of the angels did he ever say, You are my Son, today I have begotten you? And again, I will be to him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son?” These things are said also of the flesh; for “I will be to him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son” sets forth the incarnation; but “You are my Son” shows nothing other than that he is from him. And just as “who is” is said from the present time (for this especially fits him), so too “today” seems to me here to be said of the flesh. For when he takes hold of it, he then speaks all things without fear. For the flesh shares in the lofty things, just as the Godhead too shares in the lowly. For God, who did not think it beneath him to become man and did not refuse the thing itself, how would he have refused the words?

4. Knowing these things, then, let us be ashamed of nothing, let us not think highly of ourselves. For if he, being God and Master and Son of God, did not refuse to take the form of a slave, much more must we do all things, even if they are lowly. For from what, tell me, man, do you think highly of yourself? From the things of this life? But these run past before they appear. From spiritual things, then? But this too is one spiritual achievement, not to think highly of oneself. Why, then, do you think highly of yourself? Because you do right? Hear Christ saying, “When you have done all things, say, We are unprofitable slaves; we have done what we ought to do.” But do you think highly of yourself because of wealth? Why, tell me? Have you not heard, “[Naked we came, and naked] we shall depart”? Or rather, do you not see those before you who departed bare and naked? Who, having what belongs to others, thinks highly of himself? For those who wish to use them for their own enjoyment are deprived of them even against their will, often before death, and at death in every case. “But while we live,” he says, “we use them as we wish.” In the first place, one would not easily see anyone using what he has as he wishes; and if someone does use it as he wishes, even this is not great; for the present time is short compared with the endless ages. Do you think highly of yourself, man, because you are rich? Why? For this falls to robbers and thieves and murderers and the effeminate and fornicators and all the wicked. Why then do you think highly of yourself? For if you have used it as you should, you ought not to think highly of yourself, so as not to spoil the commandment; and if not as you should, for this very reason you should be humbled, because you have become a slave of money and are ruled by it. Tell me, if someone in a fever drinks a great deal of water, which for a little while quenches the thirst but afterwards kindles the flame, ought he to think highly of himself? And if someone has more cares to no purpose, ought he to think highly of himself for that? Why, tell me? Because you have many masters? Because you have countless cares? Because many flatter you? But this is slavery. And that you may learn that you are a slave to them, hear plainly. The other passions within us are sometimes useful; for example, anger is useful in many cases: for “unjust anger,” it says, … and again, “He who is angry with his brother without cause will be liable to gehenna.” Again, jealous zeal is good, and desire: the one when it is for the begetting of children, the other when it imitates good things. As Paul too says, “It is good to be zealously sought in a good thing always”; and again, “Be zealous for the greater gifts.” So both are useful. But arrogance is nowhere good, but everywhere useless and harmful. Yet if one must think highly of oneself, it should be on poverty. Why? Because he who can live on little is much greater and better than he who cannot. For tell me, if some people were invited to the royal city, and some of them needed neither beasts of burden nor servants nor sunshades nor lodgings nor shoes nor baggage, but it was enough for them to have bread only and to take water from the springs, while the others said, “Unless you give us carriages too and a soft bed, we cannot come; unless we have many attendants, unless we may rest continually, we cannot; unless we use beasts of burden and travel only a small part of the day; and we need many other things besides,” which would we admire, those or these? Clearly these who need nothing. So too here: some need many things for the journey of this life, others nothing. So it was rather those in poverty who ought to think highly of themselves, if indeed anyone ought. “But the poor man is easily despised,” he says. Not he, but those who despise him. For why should I not despise those who do not know how to admire what they should? If someone is a painter, he will laugh at all who mock him, as long as they are ignorant, and he does not turn to what they say, but is content with his own testimony; and shall we hang ourselves on the opinion of the many? And how does this deserve pardon? This is why we deserve to be despised, when we do not despise those who despise us for our poverty, and do not pity them. And I pass over how many sins are born of wealth, and how many good things of poverty; or rather, neither wealth nor poverty is good in itself, but becomes so through those who use it. The approved Christian shows himself more in poverty than in wealth. How? In poverty he will be less puffed up, more self-controlled, more dignified, more gentle, more prudent; but remaining in wealth he has many hindrances to these. Let us see, then, what the rich man does, or rather the one who uses wealth badly. He seizes, he defrauds, he does violence. And what? The perverse loves, the unlawful unions, the sorceries, the poisonings, all the other terrible things, will you not find them born of wealth? Do you see that it is easier to pursue virtue in poverty than in wealth? For do not think, because the rich do not pay the penalty here, that they do not even sin; for if it were easy for a rich man to pay the penalty, you would have found the prisons full of them. But among its other evils wealth has this one too, that he who possesses it, transgressing in wickedness without punishment, will never stop doing it, but will receive wounds without remedies, and no one will put a bridle on him. And if one wishes, he will find that poverty provides us more occasions even for pleasure. How? Because it is free of cares, hatred, fighting, rivalry, strife, countless evils. Let us not, then, pursue riches, nor always envy those who possess much; but those of us who have, let us use wealth as we should; and those who have not, let us not grieve over this, but give thanks to God for all things, that with little toil he prepares for us to receive the same reward as the rich, or even greater, if we wish, and from little we shall gain great things. For the one who brought the two talents was admired and honored equally with the one who brought the five. Why? Because, though he was entrusted with two talents, he fulfilled all his own part and brought in double what was entrusted. Why then are we eager to be entrusted with much, when we may reap the same from little, or even more? When the toil is less and the reward much greater? For a poor man will more easily part with what is his than a rich man who has acquired much and great. Or do you not know that the more one gathers round him, the more he longs for? So that we may not suffer this, let us not seek wealth, nor bear poverty with impatience, nor be eager to be rich; but those of us who have, let us use it as Paul commanded: “Those who have,” he says, “as though they had not, and those who use this world as not using it to the full”; that we may obtain the promised good things; which may we all obtain, by grace and loving-kindness …

“… let all the angels of God worship him.” And of the angels … “… a flame of fire”; but of the Son, “Your throne, O God …” Our Lord Jesus Christ calls his coming in the flesh a going out, as when he says, “The sower went out to sow,” and again, “I came out from my Father, and I have come”; and one may see this in many places. But Paul calls it a bringing in, saying, “And when again he brings the firstborn into the world,” calling the taking of the flesh this bringing in. Why then do they use different words about him, and in what sense is each said? It is clear from the very things signified. Christ rightly calls his own coming a going out, for we were outside, away from God. And just as in palaces the prisoners and those who have offended the king stand outside, and the one who wishes to reconcile them does not bring them inside, but goes out himself and speaks with them outside, until, having made them worthy of the king’s sight, he brings them in; so Christ too did. For he came out to us, that is, took flesh, and spoke to us the king’s message, and so brought us in, having both cleansed us of our sins and reconciled us. That is why he calls it a going out. But Paul names it a bringing in, by a metaphor from those who inherit and take possession of an estate or some property. For to say, “And when again he brings the firstborn into the world,” is the language of one showing “when he puts the world into his hands”; for then he gained possession of it all, when he also became known. And he says these things not about God the Word, but about Christ according to the flesh; and rightly. For if he was in the world, according to John, and the world came into being through him, how could he have been brought in otherwise than in the flesh? “And let all the angels of God,” he says, “worship him.” When he is about to say something great and lofty, he prepares the way for it beforehand and makes it easy to accept by making the Father the one who brings in the Son. And consider: he said above that he spoke to us not through prophets but through the Son; he showed that the Son is better than angels, establishing this both from the name and from the Father’s bringing in the Son. Here now he establishes it from another thing too. What is that? From the worship; and this also shows by how much he is better: by as much as a master is better than a slave. Therefore, just as when someone brings a person into a king’s house he at once orders those in charge of it to bow down to him, so he too does, speaking of the bringing into the world of what is according to the flesh, and adding for this reason, “And let all the angels of God worship him.” Is it angels only, then, and not the other powers too? Away with the thought! Hear what follows: “And of his angels he says, Who makes his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire; but of the Son, Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.” See the greatest difference: that they are created, but he is uncreated. And why does he say of his angels, “who makes,” but of the Son why did he not say “who makes”? And yet one could have stated the difference this way: of his angels he says, “Who makes his angels spirits,” but of the Son, “The Lord created me,” and again, “God has made him both Lord and Christ.” But neither was that said of the Son as God, nor this of God the Word, but of what is according to the flesh. For where he showed the true difference, he no longer included angels only, but also the whole ministering power above. Do you see how he distinguishes, and with what clarity, creatures and Creator, ministers and Master, the heir and genuine Son and slaves? “But of the Son he says, Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.” See a symbol of kingship. “A scepter of uprightness is the scepter of your kingdom.” See again another symbol of kingship. Then again to what is according to the flesh: “You have loved righteousness and hated lawlessness; therefore God, your God, has anointed you.” What is “your God”? Since he had uttered something great, he again softens it. Here he has struck down the Jews, and the followers of Paul of Samosata, and the Arians, and Marcellus and Sabellius, and Marcion. How? The Jews, by showing that the same one is two things, both God and man; the others, I mean those of Paul of Samosata, by discoursing on his eternal existence and uncreated essence; for in contrast to “I made” he has set “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.” Against the Arians, both this same thing again and that he is not a slave; but if he is a creature, he is a slave. Against Marcellus and the others, that these are two persons, distinct in hypostasis; and against the Marcionites, that it is not the Godhead that is anointed, but the humanity. Then he says, “beyond your fellows.” And who are the fellows, if not men? That is, [he received] the Spirit not by measure …

Do you see how he always joins the account of the dispensation to that of the uncreated nature? What is clearer than this? Have you seen that a creature and an offspring are not the same? For otherwise he would not have distinguished them, and in contrast to “he made” added, “But to the Son he said, Your throne, O God, is forever and ever”; nor would he have called the name “Son” a more excellent name, if it were a sign of the same thing. For what is the difference? If creature and offspring are the same, and they were made, what is more excellent? See again “God” with the article. And again he says, “In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the works of your hands. They will perish, but you remain; and they will all grow old like a garment, and like a cloak you will roll them up, and they will be changed; but you are the same, and your years will not fail.” So that you may not, on hearing, “And when he brings the firstborn into the world,” think it a gift given to him later, he corrects this by saying, “In the beginning”: not now, but from of old. See again, he strikes both Paul of Samosata and Arius a deadly blow, fitting to the Son what belongs to the Father. And besides this he hinted at something else in passing, and greater than this; for he indicated the transformation of the world, saying, “They will grow old like a garment, and like a cloak you will roll them up, and they will be changed”; which he says in the Epistle to the Romans too, that he will transform the world. And showing the ease of it, he added, “you will roll up.” For just as someone might roll up a cloak, so he will both roll up and change the world. And if he works the transformation and making for the better and the greater so easily, did he need another for the lesser making? How long will you not be ashamed? At the same time this is also the greatest consolation, to know that things will not stay as they are, but all things will receive a change, and all things will be altered, while he remains forever living, and living without end: “And your years,” he says, “will not fail.” “But to which of the angels has he ever said, Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet?” See, again he encourages them, if indeed their enemies were going to be defeated; and their enemies are the same as Christ’s. This again belongs to kingship, to equality of honor, to honor, not to weakness: that the Father is angered over what is done to the Son; this is a sign of great love and genuineness, as of a father toward a son. For he who is angered on his behalf, how is he a stranger to him? “Until I make your enemies.” As he says in the second psalm too: “He who dwells in heaven will laugh at them, and the Lord will mock them. Then he will speak to them in his anger, and in his wrath he will trouble them.” And again he himself says, “Those who did not want me to reign over them, bring them here before me and slay them.” For that the words are his, hear what he says elsewhere too: “How often I wished to gather your children together, and you would not! See, your house is left to you desolate.” And again, “The kingdom will be taken from you and given to a nation producing its fruits”; and again, “Whoever falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; but on whomever it falls, it will crush him.” Besides, he who is going to judge them there, much more exacted the penalty here for their outrage against him. So “until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet” belongs only to the honor paid to the Son. “Are they not all ministering spirits, sent out for service for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?” What wonder is it, he says, if they minister to the Son, when they minister even for our salvation? See how he lifts up their minds, and shows the great honor of God toward us, since he has appointed angels, who are above us, to have this ministry on our behalf. As one might say, For this he uses them, he says; this is the angels’ service, to minister to God for our salvation. So this is the work of angels, to do everything for the salvation of the brothers; or rather it is the work of Christ himself; for he saves as Master, they as servants. And we, though servants, are fellow servants of angels. Why do you gape at the angels, he says? They are servants of the Son of God, and they are sent in many places on our account and minister for our salvation; so they are our fellow servants. Consider how he does not make much difference among creatures; and yet the distance between angels and men is great; but nevertheless he brings them down near us, all but saying: they toil for us, they run about on our account, they serve us, as one might say. This is their ministry, to be sent everywhere for our sake.

3. And the Old Testament is full of these examples, and the New is full too. For when angels bring good news to shepherds, when to Mary, when to Joseph, when they sit at the tomb, when they are sent to say to the disciples, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven?”, when they release Peter from prison, when they … to Philip, how do they not serve us? Consider, then, how great the honor is, when God sends the angels as servants as to friends; when an angel appears to Cornelius, when an angel brings all the apostles out of the prison and says, “Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people all the words of this life.” Why do I speak of the others? An angel appears even to Paul himself. Do you see them ministering to us for God’s sake, and ministering in the greatest matters? That is why Paul says, “All things are yours, whether life or death or the world, or things present or things to come.” The Son too was sent, but not as a servant, nor as a minister, but as Son and Only-begotten, and willing the same things as the Father. Or rather, he was not even sent; for he did not pass from place to place, but took flesh; whereas these change places, and leaving the former ones where they are, so come to others where they were not. And again he says this to encourage them: Why are you afraid? Angels minister to us. And having spoken of the Son, of what concerns the dispensation, the creation and the kingdom, and having shown his equality of honor, and that he rules as Master not only over men but also over the powers above, he then exhorts them, having prepared his argument, so that we may give heed to what has been heard, and says, “Therefore we must give heed the more abundantly to what we have heard.” Here, though he wished to say that one must give heed more abundantly than to the law, he kept silent about it, yet he made it plain all the same by the argument, not by advice or by exhortation; for so it was better. “For if the word spoken through angels,” he says, “proved firm, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense … neglect so great a salvation? Which, having at the first begun to be spoken by the Lord, was confirmed to us by those who heard.” Why must we give heed more abundantly to what we have heard? Are not both those things and these of God? He says, then, either “more abundantly than to the law,” or “greatly”; not comparing, God forbid. For since because of the long time they held the Old [Covenant] in great esteem, while these things, as being new, were still despised, he shows with abundant force that one must give heed to these more. How? All but saying that both these and those are of God, but not in the same way. And this he shows us later; for the present he establishes it more on the surface, later more plainly, saying, “For if that first had been faultless”; and again, “What is becoming old and growing aged is near to vanishing away”; and many other such things. But he does not yet dare to say anything of this kind in the opening, until he has prepared and held fast the hearer with more preliminary arguments. Tell me, why then must we give heed more abundantly? “Lest,” he says, “we drift away”; that is, lest we perish, lest we fall away. And here he shows the grievousness of falling away, that it is difficult for what has drifted away to come back again, since it happened through carelessness. He took the word from the Proverbs: “My son,” it says, “do not drift away”; showing both the ease of the slip and the grievousness of the destruction; that is, disobedience is not without danger for us. And by the argument he shows that the punishment is greater; but he leaves it again in the inquiry, and not in the conclusion. For this is to make one’s discourse inoffensive: not to pronounce the judgment everywhere by bringing it in oneself, but to leave the hearer master, so that he himself may cast the vote; which also made them more reasonable. The prophet Nathan does this too in the Old [Testament], and Christ in Matthew, saying, “What will he do to those tenants of the vineyard?” and compelling them to bring in the verdict themselves; for this is the greatest victory. Then, having said, “For if the word spoken through angels proved firm,” he did not add, “much more the word through Christ”; he let this be, and said the lesser thing: “How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” And see how he makes the comparison. “For if the word spoken through angels,” he says. There “through angels,” here “through the Lord”; and there “a word,” here “salvation.” Then, so that no one may say, “What then? Are the things you say, Paul, Christ’s?”, he anticipates and shows that they are trustworthy. He shows their trustworthiness both by his having heard them from those who heard Christ, and by their being spoken now by God, not by a voice simply borne along, as in Moses’ case, but with signs taking place and deeds bearing witness.

And what is, “For if the word spoken through angels proved firm”? In the Epistle to the Galatians too he says something like this: “ordained through angels by the hand of a mediator”; and again, “You received the law as ordained by angels, and did not keep it”; and everywhere he says that it was given through angels. Some, then, say that he hints at Moses; but this is unreasonable; for here he speaks of many angels. And by angels here he means those in heaven. What, then, can one say? Either he means the Ten Commandments only (for there Moses spoke and God answered), or that angels were present while God gave the ordinance; or he says these things about everything said and done in the Old [Testament], as angels having taken part in them. But how does he say elsewhere, “The law was given through Moses,” and here “through angels”? For it says, “And God came down in the thick darkness.” “For if the word spoken through angels proved firm.” What is “firm”? True, as one might say, and trustworthy, because everything that was said came to pass at the proper time; either he means this, or that it prevailed, and the threats came to fulfillment; or by “word” he means the commands. For angels sent from God gave many commands apart from the law: for example, at the Place of Weeping, in the time of the Judges, in the case of Samson. For this reason he did not say “law,” but “word.” And perhaps he seems to me to say this, meaning rather the things administered through the angels. What then shall we say? That the angels to whom the nation had been entrusted were present then, and they themselves made the trumpets and the other things, the fire, the thick darkness. “And every transgression,” he says, “and disobedience received a just recompense.” Not one did and another did not, but every one. “Recompense,” instead of “punishment.” And why did he speak so? It is Paul’s custom not to make much account of words, but to use words of ill sound for good things indifferently, as elsewhere he says, “taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.” And again elsewhere he has put “recompense” for punishment, and here he calls punishment a “wage.” “If indeed it is just with God,” he says, “to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and with rest you who are afflicted.” That is, justice was not destroyed, but God followed it up and turned the penalty back on those who had sinned; and yet not all sins become manifest unless the ordinances are transgressed. “How then shall we,” he says, “escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” By this he made plain that that salvation was not a great one. And he rightly added “so great.” For not from wars, he says, will he save us now, nor will he give the land and the good things in the land, but there will be the destruction of death, the ruin of the devil, the kingdom of heaven, eternal life. For he showed all these things in brief by saying, “if we neglect so great a salvation.” Then he adds its trustworthiness too: “which, having at the first begun to be spoken by the Lord”; that is, it had its beginning from the very fountain; no man ferried it across to earth, no created power, but the Only-begotten himself. “It was confirmed to us by those who heard.” What is “was confirmed”? It was believed, or it came to pass. “For we have the pledge,” he says; that is, it was not quenched, it did not cease, but it prevails and overcomes. And the cause is that the divine power works. What is “by those who heard”? That is, those who heard from the Lord confirmed us themselves. This is a great and trustworthy thing. As Luke too says at the beginning of the Gospel: “Just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word delivered them to us.” How then was it confirmed? What then, he says, if those who heard made it up? Doing away with this, then, and showing that the grace is not human, he added, “God also bearing witness with them.” For if they had made it up, God would not have borne witness to them. They bear witness, and God too bears witness. How does he bear witness? Not by word, nor by voice (though this too would have been trustworthy), but how? “By signs and wonders and various powers.” He rightly put “various powers,” showing the abundance of the gifts; which did not happen in the case of those of earlier times, neither so many signs nor so varied. That is, we did not believe them simply, but through signs and wonders. So it is not them we believe, but God himself. “And by distributions of the Holy Spirit according to his will.” What then of the fact that sorcerers too do signs, and the Jews said that he cast out demons by Beelzebul? But they do not do such signs; that is why he said, “by various powers.” For those are not power, but weakness and illusion and empty things. That is why he said, “by distributions of the Holy Spirit according to his will.”

Here he seems to me to hint at something else too. For it is likely that there were not many there who had gifts, and that these had failed, since they had become more sluggish. So, to console them in this too, and not let them fall down, he referred everything to the will of God. He himself knows, he says, what is profitable for each, and so he distributes the grace; which he does in the Epistle to the Corinthians too, saying, “God has placed each one of us as he willed”; and again, “To each the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good, according to his will.” He shows that the gift is according to the Father’s will. And often many did not receive a gift because of an impure and sluggish life; and sometimes those who had a good and pure life did not receive one. Why? So that they might not become careless, so that they might not be lifted up further. For if even without a gift the very consciousness of a pure life is enough to lift one up, much more when grace is added. So it was given rather to the lowly and the simple, and especially to the simple; for “in simplicity,” it says, “and gladness of heart.” And indeed by this he urged them on the more, and if they were rather careless, he pricked their conscience. For the lowly man who does not imagine great things about himself becomes more … when he receives a gift, as having received it beyond his desert and judging himself not worthy; but the one who thinks he has achieved something considers the thing a debt and is puffed up. So God arranges this matter for our profit. And one may see this happening in the church too: one has the word of teaching, another cannot even open his mouth. Let no one, then, be grieved at this; “for to each the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.” For if a man who is master of a house knows what to entrust to whom, much more does God, who knows the mind of men, who knows all things before they come to be. One thing only is worth grieving over, sinning, and nothing else. Do not say, “Why do I not have money?” or, “If I had it, I would have given to the poor.” You do not know, if you had it, whether you would not rather be covetous. Now you say these things, but when put to the test you would be another person. For when we are well fed, we think we can fast; but when we go a little without, another thought comes over us. Again, when we are free of drunkenness, we think we can overcome the passion; but when we are caught by it, no longer. Do not say, “Why did I not receive the gift of teaching?” or, “If I had it, I would have built up countless people.” You do not know, if you had it, whether it would not have turned to your condemnation, whether envy, whether sloth would not have led you to hide the talent. Now you are free of all these things, and if you do not give out the measure of grain, you are not accused; but then you would be answerable for countless things. And besides, not even now are you without the gift. Show in the little what you would be if you had that; for “if you are not faithful in the little,” he says, “who will give you the great?” Show it as the widow did: she had two lepta, and she put in all that she possessed. Do you seek money? Show that you despise the little, so that I may believe you about the much too; but if you do not despise even this, much less would you despise that. Again, in the matter of speech, show that you have used exhortation and counsel as you should. You do not have the eloquence from outside? You do not have an abundance of ideas? Yet you know these common things. You have a child, you have a neighbor, you have a friend, you have a brother, you have relatives; even if you cannot deliver a long discourse publicly in the church, you can exhort these privately. Here there is no need of rhetoric, nor of a long discourse; show in these that, if you had the gift of speech, you would not have neglected it. But if you are not diligent in the little, how am I to believe you about the great? For that each one can do this, hear how Paul entrusted it even to lay people: “Build one another up,” he says, “as indeed you are doing”; and, “Comfort one another with these words.” God knows how to distribute to each. Are you better than Moses? Hear how he complains: “Am I able,” he says, “to carry them, because you said to me, Carry them, as a nurse carries the suckling child?” What then did God do? He took from his spirit and gave it to the others, showing that even when he was carrying them, this gift was not his, but the Spirit’s. If you had the gift, you would often have been lifted up, often turned aside; you do not know yourself as God knows you. Let us not say, “To what end is this? And why this?” When God arranges things, let us not demand an account of him; for this belongs to the extreme of impiety and madness. We are slaves, and slaves far removed from the Master, not knowing even what lies at our feet. Let us not, then, busy ourselves with God’s counsel, but let us guard what he has given, even if it is small, even if it is the least, and we shall certainly be approved. Or rather, none of God’s gifts is small. Are you pained because you do not have the gift of teaching? Tell me, then, which seems greater to you, the gift of teaching or the gift of healing? Surely the latter. And what of this: does not giving sight to the blind seem greater to you than driving away diseases? Does not raising the dead seem greater? And what, tell me? Does not doing this by shadows and handkerchiefs seem greater to you than doing it by a word? Which then do you want, tell me: to raise the dead by shadows and handkerchiefs, or to have the gift of teaching? Surely the former, you will say, to raise the dead by shadows and handkerchiefs.

If, then, I show you that there is another gift much greater than this, and that, though it is possible for you to receive it, you do not receive it, so that you are justly deprived of these too, what will you say? And yet this gift it is possible not for one or for two, but for all to have. I know that you are gaping and astonished, if you are going to hear that it is possible for you to have a gift greater than raising the dead and giving sight to the blind and doing the things done in the time of the apostles; and perhaps it even seems unbelievable to you. What then is this gift? Love. But believe me; for this word is not mine, but Christ’s, speaking through Paul. For what does he say? “Be zealous for the greater gifts; and I show you a still more excellent way.” What is “still more excellent”? What he says is this. The Corinthians were then proud of their gifts, and those who had tongues, the least gift, were puffed up against the rest. He says, then, “Do you want gifts at all? I show you a way of gifts, not simply surpassing, but surpassing beyond measure.” Then he says, “If I speak with the tongues of angels, but have not love, I am nothing; and if I have faith so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” Have you seen the gift? Be zealous, then, for this gift. This is greater than raising the dead; this is much better than all the others. And that this is so, hear what Christ says when speaking with the disciples: “By this all will know that you are my disciples.” Then, showing by what, he did not say the miracles, but what? “If you have love among one another.” And again he says to the Father, “By this they will know that you sent me, if they are one.” And he himself said to the disciples, “A new commandment I give you, that you love one another.” Such a person, then, is more … and more illustrious than those who raise the dead; and rightly. For that is wholly of God’s grace, but this is also of your own earnestness. This truly belongs to a Christian; this shows the disciple of Christ, the crucified, who has nothing in common with the earth; without this not even martyrdom can profit anything. And that you may learn this, see it clearly. The blessed Paul took two summits of virtue, or rather three, those in signs, those in knowledge, those in life; and without this he said these things are nothing. How these things are nothing, I will tell you. “If I give away all I have,” he says, “but have not love, I am nothing.” For it is possible even for one who feeds the poor not to be loving, and for one who empties out his money. These things have been said by us sufficiently in the passage about love; but now, as I said, let us be zealous for the gift, let us love one another, and we shall need nothing else for the achievement of virtue, but all things will be easy for us without sweat, and we shall achieve everything with great zeal. “But see,” someone says, “even now we love one another; for one has two friends, or three, another four.” But this is not to love for God’s sake, but for the sake of being loved. To love for God’s sake does not have this as the beginning of love; such a person will be disposed toward all as toward brothers, loving those of the same faith as genuine brothers, and pitying heretics and Greeks and Jews, as brothers by nature but worthless and useless, wasting away and weeping on their behalf. In this we shall be like God, if we love all, even our enemies, not if we work signs. For we admire God too when he works wonders, but much more when he shows loving-kindness, when he is long-suffering. If, then, even in God’s case that is worthy of great admiration, much more in men’s case it is plain that this makes us admirable. Let us be zealous for this, then; and we shall have nothing less than Paul and Peter and those who raised countless dead, even if we cannot drive away a fever; but without love, even if we work greater signs than the apostles themselves, even if we throw ourselves into countless dangers for the faith, there will be no profit for us. And it is not I who say these things, but he himself, the nursling of love, knows them; let us obey him, then. For so we shall be able to obtain the promised good things; which may we all share, 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.

“For not to angels did he subject the world … But someone has testified somewhere, saying, What is man, that you remember him? or the son of man, that you visit him? You made him a little lower than the angels.” I wished to know clearly whether some of you listen to what is said with due earnestness, whether we are not throwing the seeds by the wayside; for so I would have given my teaching more eagerly. We shall speak even if no one listens, because of the fear laid upon us by the Savior: “Testify,” he says, “to this people; and if they do not listen, you yourself will be blameless.” But if I were persuaded of your earnestness, I would speak not only from fear but would do it with pleasure too. For now, even if no one listens, even if the thing is without danger for me since I fulfill my own part, still the toil does not come with pleasure. For what profit is it, when I am not accused, but no one is profited? But if some should give heed, we shall receive not so much benefit from not being punished as from your progress. How then shall I know this? I shall watch some of you who do not attend very closely, and meeting them privately I shall question them; and if I find any holding some of what has been said (I do not say all, for this is not very easy for you, but even a little out of much), it is plain that I no longer doubt about the many. And we ought indeed, without warning … but it is welcome if even so we could succeed; or rather, even so I can come upon you unguarded. For that I will question you, I have said beforehand; but when I will question you, I do not make plain: perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps after twenty or even thirty days, perhaps after fewer, perhaps after more. So too God has made the day of our end unknown; he has left it unclear to us whether it will come today or tomorrow, or after a whole year, or after more years, so that by the uncertainty of the expectation we may keep ourselves always in virtue; and that we shall depart he has said, but when, he has not. So I too said that I will question you, but did not add when, wishing you to be always on the alert. And let no one say, “I heard these things four weeks ago, or five, or more, and I cannot retain them.” For I want the hearer to retain them so as to have an unforgetting memory, not one that fades, and not to spit out what is said. For I want you to retain them, not that you may tell me, but that you may profit; and this is what I am eager for. But since all that had to be said for safety’s sake has been said by us, it is necessary now to begin on the sequence. What then is set before us to speak of today? “For not to angels,” he says, “did he subject the world to come, about which we are speaking.” Does he speak of some other world? No, but of this one. That is why he added, “about which we are speaking,” so as not to let the mind wander off to seek some other. How then does he call it “to come”? Just as elsewhere he says, “who is a type of the one to come,” speaking of Adam and Christ in the Epistle to the Romans, and calling Christ according to the flesh “to come” relative to the times of Adam (for he was to come); so now too, since he said, “And when he brings the firstborn into the world,” so that you may not think he speaks of another world, he confirms it from many places, and especially by calling it “to come”; for the world was to come, while the Son of God always was. This world, then, that was to come into being, he subjected not to angels but to Christ. And that it is said to the Son, he says, is plain; for no one would say that it was said to angels. Then he brings in another testimony too, and says, “But someone has testified somewhere, saying.” Why did he not give the prophet’s name, but hid it? He does this in other testimonies too, as when he says, “And when again he brings the firstborn into the world, he says, And let all the angels of God worship him”; and again, “I will be to him a Father”; and, “of the angels, Who makes his angels spirits; but of the Son, And in the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth.” So here too he says, “But someone has testified somewhere, saying.” And this very thing, I think, hiding and not setting down the one who spoke the testimony, but bringing it in as something current and well known, is the mark of one showing that they were very experienced in the Scriptures. “What is man, that you remember him? or the son of man, that you visit him? You made him a little lower than the angels; you crowned him with glory and honor, and set him over the works of your hands; you subjected all things under his feet.”

These things, even if they are said of humanity in common, would nevertheless fit Christ according to the flesh more properly. For “you subjected all things under his feet” belongs to him rather than to us. For the Son of God visited us when we were nothing, and, taking what is ours and uniting it to himself, became higher than all. “For in subjecting all things to him,” he says, “he left nothing that is not subject to him. But now we do not yet see all things subjected to him.” What he says is this. Since he had said, “until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet,” and it was likely that they were still distressed, he then, after inserting a few things, brought in this testimony confirming that one. For so that they might not say, “How has he put the enemies under his feet, when we have suffered so much?”, he had already hinted at it sufficiently in the former passage; for “until” showed not what happens at once but what happens in time; but here he pursues it further. Do not, he says, think that because they have not yet been subjected they will not be subjected; for that they must be subjected is plain, since the prophecy was spoken for this: “For in subjecting all things to him,” he says, “he left nothing that is not subject to him.” How then are not all things subjected? Because they are going to be subjected. If, then, all things must be subjected but are not yet subjected, do not be distressed or troubled. For if you suffered these things when the end had come and all things had been subjected, you would rightly be pained; “but now we do not yet see all things subjected to him”; the King has not yet fully prevailed. Why then are you troubled when you suffer ill? The preaching has not yet overcome all; it is not yet the time for complete subjection. Then again another encouragement: the very one who is to have all subjected has himself already died and suffered countless things. “But we see Jesus,” he says, “made a little lower than the angels because of the suffering of death.” Then the good things again: “crowned with glory and honor.” Have you seen how he fitted it all to him? For “a little” would fit him rather, who was only three days in Hades, but not us who are corrupted for a long time; likewise “with glory and honor” will fit him much more than us. Again he reminds them of the cross, eager to achieve two things: to show his care, and to persuade them to bear everything nobly, looking to the Teacher. For if he who is worshiped by angels, he says, endured to be a little lower than the angels for your sake, much more ought you, who are lower than the angels, to bear everything for his sake. Then he shows that the cross is glory and honor, as he himself too calls it glory, saying, “The hour has come that the Son of Man should be glorified.” If, then, he calls glory what he suffered for his slaves, much more should you what you suffer for the Master. Do you see how great the fruit of the cross is? Do not fear the thing; it seems gloomy to you, but it gives birth to countless good things. From these he shows the profit of the trial. Then he says, “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.” “So that,” he says, “by the grace of God.” He suffered these things because of God’s grace toward us: “He who did not spare his own Son,” it says, “but gave him up for us all.” For what reason? He did not owe us this, but did it by grace. And again in the Epistle to the Romans he says, “Much more did the grace of God and the gift in the grace of the one man Jesus Christ abound for the many.” “So that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone”: not for the believers only, but for the whole world; for he died for all. And what if not all believed? He fulfilled his own part. And he rightly said, “might taste death for everyone,” and did not say “might die”; for as one who truly tasted it, so, having spent a little interval in it, he rose at once. By saying, then, “because of the suffering of death,” he signified a real death; and by “better than the angels” he made plain the resurrection. For just as a physician who has no need to taste the food prepared for the sick man tastes it first himself out of his care for him, to persuade the sick man to venture boldly on the food, so Christ too, since all men feared death, persuading them to venture boldly on death, himself tasted it, having no need. “For the ruler of this world is coming,” he says, “and finds nothing in me.” So both “by grace” and “might taste death for everyone” establish this. “For it was fitting for him, for whom are all things and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make perfect the founder of their salvation through sufferings.”

Here he speaks about the Father. Do you see how “through whom” is again fitted to him? He would not have done this if it belonged to inferiority and suited the Son only. What he says is this: he has done what is worthy of his loving-kindness by showing the firstborn more illustrious than all, and setting him as an example to the others, like a noble athlete who surpasses the rest. “The founder of their salvation,” that is, the cause of salvation. Do you see how great the difference is? He too is Son, and we are sons; but he saves, and we are saved. Have you seen how he both brings us together and separates us? “Bringing many sons to glory,” he says: here he brought them together. “The founder of their salvation”: and again he separated them. “To make perfect through sufferings.” So sufferings are perfection and the cause of salvation. Do you see that suffering ill is not the mark of those forsaken? And if God honored the Son first in this, in leading him through sufferings, truly his taking flesh and suffering what he suffered is much greater than making the world and bringing it out of nothing. And that too was of loving-kindness, but this much more. And showing this, he himself says, “that in the ages to come he might show … his kindness, and raised us up together and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” “For it was fitting for him, for whom are all things and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make perfect the founder of their salvation through sufferings.” It was fitting for him, he says, who cares for all and brought all things into being, to give up the Son for the salvation of the rest, the one for the many. But he did not say it so, but “to make perfect through sufferings,” showing that he who suffers for someone not only benefits that person, but himself also becomes more illustrious and more perfect. And this too he says to the believers to encourage them. For Christ too was glorified then, when he suffered. But when I say “he was glorified,” do not think that an addition of glory came to him; for the glory of his nature he always had, receiving nothing in addition. “For he who sanctifies,” he says, “and those who are sanctified are all from one; for which reason he is not ashamed to call them brothers.” See again how he brings them together, honoring and consoling them, and making them brothers of Christ in this, that they are from one. Then again, guarding himself and showing that he speaks of what is according to the flesh, he added, “he who sanctifies and those who are sanctified.” Do you see how great the difference is? He sanctifies, we are sanctified. And above he called him “the founder of their salvation.” For there is one God, from whom are all things. “For which reason he is not ashamed to call them brothers.” Do you see how he again shows the superiority? For by saying, “he is not ashamed,” he shows that the whole belongs not to the nature of the thing, but to the affection of one who is not ashamed, and to his great humility. For even if they are from one, yet he sanctifies and we are sanctified; and the difference is great. He is from the Father as a genuine Son, that is, from his essence; we as creatures, that is, from what was not. So the difference is great. That is why he says, “He is not ashamed to call them brothers, saying, I will declare your name to my brothers.” For when he put on the flesh, he put on the brotherhood too, and the brotherhood came in together with the flesh. But this he cites fittingly; what does “I will put my trust in him” mean? And what follows is fitting too: “Here am I and the children whom God has given me.” For just as here … “your name to my brothers”; and again he shows the superiority, and that the difference is great, by what follows: “Since, then, the children,” he says, “share in blood and flesh.”

Do you see where, he says, the likeness lies? In the flesh: “He himself likewise shared in the same things.” Where are those who say that he came in appearance and not in truth? For he did not say only that he shared in these things, and then fall silent (though if he had said so, it would have been enough), but he showed something greater, adding “likewise.” Not in imagination nor in an image, he says, but in truth; for otherwise “likewise” is not preserved. Then, having shown the brotherhood, he sets down the cause of the dispensation too: “so that through death,” he says, “he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil.” Here he shows the wonderful thing, that by that through which the devil prevailed, by this he was defeated; and with that which was his strong weapon against the world, death, with this Christ struck him; and he displays the greatness of the power of the one who conquered. Do you see how much good death has done? “And might deliver,” he says, “those who through fear of death were all their life subject to slavery.” Why do you shudder … he is not [terrible any longer], but he has been trampled down, despised; he is cheap and worth nothing. And what is, “who through fear of death were all their life subject to slavery”? What is this, he says? That he who fears death is a slave and submits to everything so as not to die. Or this: that all were slaves of death, he says, and were held fast because it had not yet been undone; or, if not this, that men lived with continual fear. For always expecting to die and fearing death, they could not perceive any pleasure while this fear was with them; for this he hinted at by saying, “all their life.” Here he shows that those who are deprived of country and property and all else live more pleasantly and more freely than those who were in luxury of old, who suffered nothing of the kind, who prospered; since those were all their life under this fear and were slaves, while these are freed from it and laugh at what those shudder at. For just as if someone were to fatten with much luxury a prisoner who was to be led away to death and was always expecting this, such a thing was death of old. But now it has become as if someone, casting out that fear, urged a man to contend in the games with luxury besides, and, setting the contest before him, promised to lead him no longer to death, but to a kingdom. Which of these would you have wished to be, those being fattened in the prison while expecting the sentence every day, or those who contend much and toil willingly so as to bind on the diadem of the kingdom? Do you see how he lifted up their soul and made them soar? And he shows not only that death has ceased, but that through it the one who always waged and displayed that truceless war against us, I mean the devil, has been brought to nothing. For he who does not fear death is outside the devil’s tyranny. For if “skin for skin, and all that a man has he will give for his life,” when someone resolves to despise even this, whose slave will he be any longer? He fears no one, dreads no one, is above all and freer than all. For he who despises his own life much more despises the rest. And when the devil finds such a soul, he will be able to work nothing of his own in it. For what, tell me, will he threaten, loss of money and dishonor and exile from country? But these are small to one who “does not count even his life dear,” according to the blessed Paul. Do you see that by casting out the tyranny of death he also undid the devil’s strength? For he who knows how to discourse wisely at length about the resurrection, how does he fear death? How does he shudder any longer? Do not, then, be distressed, saying, “Why have we suffered this and that?” For so the victory becomes more glorious; and it would not have been glorious if he had not undone death by death. And this is the wonderful thing, that he conquered him by the very things by which he was strong, showing everywhere his resourcefulness and skill. Let us not, then, betray the gift given to us. “For we did not receive,” he says, “a spirit of cowardice, but a spirit of power and love and self-control.” Let us stand nobly, then, laughing at death.

But it came to me to groan bitterly at where Christ has led us up and where we have brought ourselves down. For when I see the beatings of breasts in the marketplace, the wailings they make over those who depart this life, the shrieks, the other unseemly things, believe me, I am ashamed before the Greeks and Jews and heretics who see it, and before all in short who laugh at us for this. For whatever I may say after this, I shall say in vain when I discourse wisely about the resurrection. Why? Because the Greeks do not attend to what is said by me, but to what is done by you. For they will say at once, “When will any of these be able to despise death, who cannot even look on another man dead?” Beautiful are the things said by Paul, beautiful, and worthy of heaven and of God’s loving-kindness. For what does he say? “And might deliver those who through fear of death were all their life subject to slavery.” But you do not let these things be believed, fighting against them by your deeds. And yet God has built many things as defenses for this purpose, to do away with this evil custom. For tell me, what do the bright torches mean? Do we not escort them as athletes? And what do the hymns mean? Do we not glorify God and give thanks that he has at last crowned the one who departed, that he has freed him from his toils, that, delivering him from fear, he has him with himself? Are not the hymns for this? Is not the psalmody for this? All these belong to people who rejoice: for “Is anyone cheerful?” it says, “Let him sing psalms.” But the Greeks do not attend to these things. Do not tell me, one says, of the man who is wise when he is free of suffering; for this is nothing great or wonderful; but show me the man who is wise in the midst of suffering, and then I will believe in the resurrection. And for women of the world to do this is no wonder, though even this is terrible; for they too are required to show the same wisdom. That is why Paul too says, “But I do not want you to be ignorant concerning those who have fallen asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.” He wrote these things not to monks nor to perpetual virgins, but to women of the world who had lived in marriage, and to people in secular life. But even so this is not so terrible; but when someone, woman or man, who says he has been crucified to the world, tears out his hair, or she shrieks loudly, what is more unseemly than this? Believe me when I say it: if things were done as they should be, such people ought to be kept from the thresholds of the church for a long time. For those truly deserving of mourning are these, who still fear and shudder at death, who disbelieve the resurrection. “But I do not disbelieve the resurrection,” one says, “but I miss the companionship.” Why then, tell me, when he goes abroad, and on a long journey, do you not do the same? “But I weep then too,” she says, “and lament, missing him.” But that truly belongs to one who misses the companionship, while this belongs to one who has given up hope of the return. Consider what you sing at that time: “Return, my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you”; and again, “I will fear no evil, for you are with me”; and again, “You are my refuge from the affliction that surrounds me.” Consider what these psalms mean. But you do not attend; you are drunk with grief. Yet at others’ funerals at least consider them carefully, so that you may have a remedy at your own. “Return, my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you,” you say, and you weep? Is this not a stage play, is it not playacting? For if you truly believe what you say, you mourn needlessly; but if you are playing and acting and think these things are fables, why do you sing at all? Why do you put up with those who come? Why do you not drive away those who sing psalms? “But that would be the act of madmen,” one says. And this much more. For the present, then, I exhort; but as time goes on I shall deal with the matter more severely; for I fear greatly lest in this way some grievous disease creep into the church. This beating of the breast, then, we shall set right later; for the present I give charge and solemnly testify to rich and poor, to women and men. May it be that all of you depart this life without mourning, and that in the proper order fathers grown old may be escorted by their sons, and mothers by daughters and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, in a rich old age, and that untimely death may nowhere happen. May this be, and this I pray; and I exhort those who preside and all of you to entreat God for one another, and to make this a common prayer. But if (may it be far from us, and may it not happen) some bitter death occurs (bitter, I mean, not in its nature, for death is no longer bitter, since it differs in nothing from sleep, but bitter, I mean, in relation to our state of mind); if, then, this should happen, and some should hire these women who make lamentation, believe me when I say it (for I shall not say it otherwise, but as I hold it; whoever wishes, let him be angry), I will shut him out of the church for a long time, like the idolater. For if Paul calls the covetous man an idolater, much more the one who brings in the practices of idolaters over a believer. For why, tell me, do you call presbyters, and those who sing psalms? Is it not to console, is it not to honor the departed? Why then do you insult him? Why do you make a public example of him? Why do you play as on a stage? We come discoursing on the resurrection, teaching all, even those not yet struck, through the honor paid to him, to bear it nobly if anything of the kind should ever happen; and you bring in those who pull down our work, as far as in them lies?

What is worse than this laughter and mockery? What is heavier than this inconsistency? Be ashamed and put to shame; but if you will not, we will not tolerate the bringing of such ruinous customs into the church; for “those who sin,” it says, “rebuke before all.” And through you we forbid those miserable and wretched women ever to come to the funerals of the faithful, lest we compel them to lament their own evils in earnest, and teach them not to do these things at others’ misfortunes, but rather to bewail their own calamities. For an affectionate father too, when he has a disorderly son, not only exhorts him not to go near the wicked, but frightens them too. See, then, I exhort you, and those women through you, that you do not invite such women, nor they come. And may the word achieve something more, and the threat prevail; but if (may it be far from us) we are despised, we shall be compelled in the end to put the threat into effect, disciplining you with the laws of the church, and them as is fitting for them. And if anyone, in his arrogance, despises this, let him hear Christ saying even now, “If your brother sins against you, go, reprove him between you and him alone; and if he will not be persuaded, take with you one or two; and if he still contradicts, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as the Gentile and the tax collector.” And if he commands me so to turn away from one who sins against me, when he will not be persuaded, how ought I to regard one who sins against himself and against God? You judge. For you yourselves think lightly of us because we deal so gently with you. And if anyone despises the bonds we impose, let Christ again instruct him, saying, “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” For even if we are wretched and worthless and deserving of contempt, as indeed we are, yet we are not avenging ourselves, nor repaying anger, but [caring for] your salvation. For if one bears with a friend who attacks him more vehemently than he should, considering his aim, and that he does it out of goodwill and not out of arrogance, much more a teacher who rebukes, and a teacher who says these things not even on his own authority, nor in the rank of a ruler, but in the rank of a guardian. For we do not say these things wishing to display authority (how could we, who pray never even to come to the test of it?), but grieving and beating our breasts for you. Forgive us, then, and let no one despise the bonds of the church; for it is not a man who binds, but Christ, who has given us this authority and made men masters of so great an honor. For we wish to use the authority for loosing; or rather, we wish not even to be under necessity of this; for we wish no one to be in bonds with us; we are not so wretched and miserable, even if we are very worthless. But if we are compelled, forgive us; for not willingly or wishing it, but grieving more than you who are bound, do we lay the bonds on you. And if anyone despises them, the time of judgment will come, which will teach him. The rest I do not wish to say, lest I wound your minds. For we, first of all, pray not to come to necessity; but if we do come to it, we fulfill our own part, we lay on the bonds. And if anyone breaks them, I have done my part and am blameless from then on; but you will give account to him who commanded me to bind. For if, while the king sat presiding, one of the guards standing by were ordered to bind one of those in the ranks and to lay the bonds on him, and that man not only drove him off but also broke the bonds, it is not the guard who has suffered the insult, but much more the king who gave the order. For if he makes his own what is done to the believers, when you insult those appointed to teach, much more will he feel himself insulted. But may it not happen that any of those in this church come to the necessity of these bonds. For just as not sinning is good, so bearing rebuke is profitable. Let us bear the reproof, then, and be eager not to sin; but if we sin, let us bear the rebuke. For just as it is good not to be wounded, but if this happens, it is profitable for the remedy to be applied to the wound, so it is here too. But may none of you need such remedies. “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, and things that belong to salvation, even though we speak thus.” We have spoken more vehemently for the sake of greater safety. For it is better that I be suspected by you of being bold and harsh and arrogant than that you do what does not please God. But we trust in God that this rebuke will not be without profit to you, but that you will be so changed that these words will be spent on praise of you and on commendations. And may it be that you live as pleases God, so that we may all be counted worthy to obtain the good things that God has promised to those who love him, in Christ Jesus our Lord …

“… to be made like his brothers in every respect.” Wishing to show God’s great loving-kindness and the love he had for the human race, Paul, after saying, “Since, then, the children share in blood and flesh, he himself likewise shared in the same things,” pursues this point and says, “For surely it is not angels that he takes hold of.” Do not attend to what is said lightly, he means, nor think it a slight thing that he took our flesh; for he did not grant this to angels. That is why he spoke so: “For surely it is not angels that he takes hold of, but the seed of Abraham.” What is it that he says? He took up not the nature of an angel, but that of a man. And what is “he takes hold of”? He did not lay hold of that nature, of the angels, he says, but of ours. And why did he not say “he took,” but used this word? … [a metaphor from those who pursue] those who turn away from them, and do everything … For when human nature was fleeing from him, and fleeing far (“for we were far from God,” he says, “alienated, and without God in the world”), he himself pursued and overtook it. From this it is shown that loving-kindness alone, and love and care, did this. Just as, then, when he says, “Are they not all ministering spirits sent out for service for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?”, he shows how highly he prized human nature, and that God makes great account of it, so here too he sets down the much greater thing by comparison, saying, “For it is not angels that he takes hold of.” And indeed it is truly great and wonderful and full of amazement, that our flesh should sit on high and be worshiped by angels and archangels and the seraphim and the cherubim. When I often turn this over in my mind, I stand amazed, and imagine great things of the human race; for I see great and splendid beginnings, and great zeal on God’s part for our nature. And he did not say, “He takes hold of men” simply, but, wishing to lift them up and to show that their race was great and honorable, he says, “but he takes hold of the seed of Abraham.” “Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect.” What is “in every respect”? He was born, he says, he was brought up, he grew, he suffered all that he had to, finally he died; this is “to be made like his brothers in every respect.” For since he had discoursed at length about his majesty and the glory above, he now takes up the account of the dispensation. And see with what wisdom and power he shows him taking great pains to be made like us; which was the mark of great care. For having said above, “Since, then, the children share in blood and flesh, he himself likewise shared in the same things,” here too he says, “to be made like his brothers in every respect,”

all but saying: He who is so great, who is the radiance of the glory, who is the exact imprint of the substance, who made the ages, who sits at the right hand of the Father, he willed and was eager to become our brother in all things, and for this reason he left the angels and the powers above, and came down to us, and took hold of us. And consider how many good things he worked: he undid death, he cast us out of the devil’s tyranny, he freed us from slavery; becoming our brother, he honored us. And he honored us not only with brotherhood but with countless other things too; for he willed also to become our high priest with the Father; for he adds, “so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things relating to God.” For this reason, he says, he took our flesh, out of loving-kindness alone, that he might have mercy on us. For there is no other cause of the dispensation but this alone: he saw us cast on the ground, perishing, tyrannized by death, and he had mercy. “To make propitiation,” he says, “for the sins of the people, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest.” What is “faithful”? True, able; for the Son alone is a faithful high priest, able to free from their sins those whose high priest he is. So that he might offer a sacrifice able to cleanse us, for this reason he became man. At any rate he added, “in things relating to God,” that is, for the sake of things relating to God. We were at war with God, he says … a sacrifice on our behalf. He saw us in this state and had mercy, not by appointing a high priest for us, but by becoming himself a faithful high priest. Then, showing how he is faithful, he added, “to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” “For in that he himself has suffered,” he says, “being tempted …” This is very lowly and humble and unworthy of God. “For in that he himself has suffered,” he says. Here he speaks of the one who became flesh; and perhaps it is said also for the full assurance of the hearers, and because of their weakness. What he says is this: he came through the very experience of what we suffered; now he is not ignorant of our sufferings; for he knows them not only as God, but as man too he learned them through the experience by which he was tested; he suffered much, he knows how to suffer with us. And yet God is impassible; but here he is describing what belongs to the incarnation; as if he said, Even the very flesh of Christ suffered many terrible things. He knows what affliction is, he knows what temptation is, no less than we who have suffered; for he too suffered. What then is, “he is able to help those who are tempted”? As one might say: he will stretch out his hand with great eagerness, he will be sympathetic. For since they wished to have some great thing and something more than those from the Gentiles, he shows that they have more in this, in a way that did no harm to those from the Gentiles. In what is this? That salvation is from them, that he took hold of them first, that he took flesh from them. “For it is not angels,” he says, “that he takes hold of, but he takes hold of the seed of Abraham.” By this he also honors the patriarch and shows what “the seed of Abraham” is. For he reminds them of the promise made to him which says, “To you and to your seed I will give this land,” showing by the smallest thing the nearness, that all are from one. But since that nearness was not great, he comes back again to this, and dwells now on the dispensation according to the flesh, and says, “to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” For even the very willing to become man was a mark of great care and love; but now it is not only this, but also the immortal good things provided to us through him; “to make propitiation,” he says, “for the sins of the people.” Why did he not say “of the world,” but “of the people”? For he truly bore the sins of us all. Because so far his discourse was about them; since the angel too said to Joseph, “You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people.” For this had to happen first, and he came for this, to save these, and then through these those others, even if the opposite happened. This the apostles too said from the first: “To you God, having raised up his Servant, sent him to bless you”; and again, “To you the word of this salvation was sent.” Here he shows the nobility of the Jews, saying, “to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” For the present he speaks so. For that he is the one who forgives the sins of all, he made plain both in the case of the paralytic, saying, “Your sins are forgiven you,” and in baptism; for he says to the disciples, “Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” But when Paul takes hold of the flesh, he then speaks all lowly things, fearing nothing. For see what he says next: “Therefore, holy brothers, partakers of a heavenly calling, consider the apostle and high priest of our confession, Jesus Christ, who was faithful to him who appointed him, as Moses also was in all his house.” Being about to set him above Moses by comparison, he brought his discourse to the law of the high priesthood; for all had no small opinion of Moses. And he already lays down beforehand the seeds of the superiority. He begins, then, from the flesh, and rises to the Godhead, where there could no longer be a comparison. He began from the flesh, for the time setting them on a level, and says, “as Moses also was in all his house.” And at the beginning he does not show the superiority, so that the hearer may not leap away and at once stop his ears; for even if they were believers, they still had much regard for Moses. “Who was faithful,” he says, “to him who appointed him.” Appointed him what? Apostle and high priest. Here he says nothing about essence, nor about the Godhead, but for the present about human dignities. “As Moses also was in all his house,” that is, in the people, or in the temple. But here he says “in his house” as one might say, “concerning those in the household.” For just as a steward and manager of a house, so was Moses among the people. For that by “house” here he means the people, he added, “whose house we are,” that is, we are in his creation. Then the superiority: “For this one has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses.” Again about the flesh: “by as much as he who built the house has more honor than the house.” He too, he means, belonged to the household. And he did not say, “For this one was a slave, that one a Master,” but he showed this covertly. If, then, the house was the people, and he too was of the people, he too, then, belonged to the household; for so it is our custom too to say, So-and-so is of the household of So-and-so. And here he does not call the temple a house; for God did not build it, but men. “But he who made him is God”: he means Moses. And see how he shows the superiority covertly: “faithful,” he says, “in all his house,” he too being of the house, that is, of the people. The craftsman has more honor than his works; and so does “he who built the house” than the house. “But he who built all things is God.” Do you see that he speaks not about the temple, but about the whole people? “And Moses was faithful in all his house as a servant, for a testimony of the things that were to be spoken.” See another superiority too, that of the Son over the servants. Do you see again that he hints at genuineness by the title of Son? “But Christ as a Son over his house.” Have you seen how he distinguishes the thing made from the maker, the servant from the Son? The one enters into the paternal possessions as Master, the other as a servant. “Whose house we are, if we hold fast the boldness and the boast of the hope firm to the end.” Here again he urges them to stand nobly and not to fall down. For we shall be God’s house, he says, as Moses was, if we hold fast the boldness and the boast of the hope firm to the end; so that he who is pained in trials and falls down does not boast; he who is ashamed, who hides himself, has no boldness; he who is distraught does not boast. Then he also praises them, saying, “if we hold fast the boldness and the boast of the hope firm to the end,” showing that they had begun. But the end too is needed, and not simply to stand, but to have the hope firm in full assurance of faith, not shaken by trials. And do not wonder if “he himself having been tempted” is said in a rather human way. For if Scripture says of the Father, who did not become flesh, “The Lord looked down from heaven and saw all the sons of men,” that is, he learned all things exactly; and again, “I will go down and see whether they are doing according to their outcry”; and again, “God cannot bear the wickedness of men,” the divine Scripture showing the greatness of his wrath; much more might these words of human feeling be said of Christ, who also suffered in the flesh. For since many men think experience more trustworthy than anything for knowledge, he wishes to show that he who suffered knows what human nature suffers. “Therefore, holy brothers.” He says “therefore” in place of “for this reason.” “Partakers of a heavenly calling.” Seek nothing here, then, if you have been called there; for there is the reward, there the recompense. What then? “Consider the apostle and high priest of our confession, Jesus Christ, who was faithful to him who appointed him, as Moses also was in all his house.” What is “who was faithful to him who appointed him”? That is, provident, protecting his own, and not letting them be carried along at random. “As Moses also was in all his house.” That is, know who your high priest is and of what kind, and you will need no other consolation or encouragement. He calls him “apostle” because he was sent; and he calls him “high priest of our confession,” that is, of our faith. He rightly said, “as Moses”; for he too has been entrusted with a people, as that one with the leadership of a people, even if a greater one and over greater things. For Moses was as a servant, Christ as a Son; and the one cares for what belongs to another, the other for what is his own. “For a testimony of the things that were to be spoken.” What do you say? Does God accept the testimony of a man? Certainly. For if he calls heaven and earth and the hills to witness, saying through the prophet, “Hear, O heaven, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord has spoken,” and, “Hear, you valleys, foundations of the earth, for the Lord has a case against his people,” much more men. What is “for a testimony”? That they may be witnesses, he says, when they themselves act shamelessly. “But Christ as a Son.” For the one cares for what belongs to another, but this one for what is his own. “And the boast of the hope.” He rightly said “of the hope,” since all the good things were in hopes. And one must hold it so as to boast already as over things accomplished. That is why he says, “the boast of the hope,” and adds, “firm to the end”; “for in hope we were saved.” If, then, we were saved in hope, and wait for it with patience, let us not be distressed at present things, nor seek already what has been promised for afterward. “For hope that is seen,” he says, “is not hope.” For since the good things are great, he says, we cannot receive them here in this perishable life. Why then did he even foretell them to us, if he was not going to give them here? So that by the promise he might restore our souls, that by the undertaking he might strengthen our eagerness, that he might anoint and rouse our mind. For this reason all these things have been done. Let us not, then, be troubled; let no one be troubled at seeing the wicked prosper. Here there is no recompense either of wickedness or of virtue; and if somewhere there is a recompense of wickedness and of virtue, it is not according to desert, but simply as a taste of the judgment, so that those who disbelieve the resurrection may be brought to their senses at least by these things here. When, then, we see a wicked man rich, let us not fall down; when we see a good man suffering ill, let us not be troubled; for there are the crowns, there too the punishments. And besides, it is not possible for the wicked man to be wholly wicked, but he may have some good things too; nor for the good man to be wholly good, but he may have some sins too. When, then, the wicked man prospers, know that it is to the harm of his own head; for he receives here so that, having received here the recompense for those few good things, he may be punished there completely. And that man is most blessed who is punished here, so that, having put away all his sins, he may depart approved and pure and free from account. And teaching us this, Paul says, “That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a good number have fallen asleep”; and again, “Deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that the spirit may be saved in that day.” And the prophet says, “She has received from the Lord’s hand double for her sins.” And again David: “See my enemies, that they have multiplied above the hairs of my head, and have hated me with an unjust hatred, and forgive all my sins”; and again another: “O Lord our God, give us peace; for you have repaid us everything.” But these show that the good receive here the penalties for their sins; where do the wicked, receiving the good things here, get punished completely there? Hear Abraham saying to the rich man, “You received your good things in your lifetime, and Lazarus likewise evil things.” What good things? For by saying “you received back,” not “you received,” he shows that each suffered what was owed, the one being in prosperity, the other in adversity; and he says, for this reason “he is comforted here” (for you see that he is clean of sins), “and you are in anguish.” Let us not, then, be distraught when we see sinners prospering here; but when we ourselves suffer ill, let us rejoice; for the thing is a payment of sins. Let us not seek ease; for Christ promised affliction to his disciples, and Paul says, “All who wish to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” No noble athlete in the ring seeks baths and a table full of food and wine; this belongs not to an athlete but to a sluggard. For the athlete contends with dust, with oil, with the heat of the sun, with much sweat, with pressure and the straits of the contest. This is the time for boxing too; therefore also for receiving wounds, bleeding and feeling pain. Hear what the blessed Paul says: “So I box, not as one beating the air.” Let us consider the whole of life a contest, and we shall not think our sufferings strange; for not even a boxer, when he is in the contest, thinks what he suffers strange. The time of ease is another; we must be made perfect through affliction. Even if there is no persecution or affliction, there are other afflictions that befall us every day; and if we do not bear these, we would hardly bear those. “No temptation has taken you,” he says, “except what is human.” Let us pray to God, then, not to enter into temptation; but if we enter, let us bear it nobly. For the one belongs to prudent men, not to throw themselves into dangers; the other to noble and wise men, to stand firm when they have fallen into them. Let us not, then, throw ourselves in at random, for that is rashness; nor, when we are led and circumstances call us, give way, for that is cowardice. But if the preaching calls, let us not refuse; but without cause, when neither need nor any necessity of godliness calls, let us not run forward; for the thing is a display and superfluous ambition. But if anything happens that harms godliness, even if we must undergo countless deaths, let us refuse nothing. Do not call temptations on yourself when the things of godliness go forward as you desire; why draw on yourself superfluous dangers that bring no gain?

I say these things wishing you to keep the laws of Christ, who commands us to pray not to enter into temptation, and again commands us to take up the cross and follow him. For these things are not contrary, but in close harmony. Be prepared, then, like a noble soldier; be always under arms, sober, watchful, always expecting the enemy; but do not beget wars, for this belongs not to a soldier but to a rebel. But if the trumpet of godliness calls, go out at once, and despise your life, and enter the contests with great eagerness, break the phalanx of the enemy, smash the face of the devil, set up the trophy. But if godliness suffers no harm, and no one is laying waste our doctrines (I mean those concerning the soul), nor compelling you to do any of the things that do not please God, do not be officious. The Christian’s life must be full of blood: blood, not in shedding that of others, but in being ready to shed his own. With as much eagerness, then, let us pour out our own blood, when it is for Christ, as one would pour out water (for the blood that flows round the body is indeed water); and let us strip off the flesh with as much ease as one would a garment. And this will be, if we are not bound to money, nor to houses, nor hanging upon attachment to present things. For if those who live this military life renounce everything, and wherever war calls, they go there and march, and endure everything with eagerness, much more must we, the soldiers of Christ, prepare ourselves so and be drawn up for the war against the passions. There is no persecution now, and may there never be; but there is another war, that of the desire for money, that of envy, that of the other passions. Describing this war Paul says, “Our wrestling is not against blood and flesh.” This war is always at hand. That is why he wishes us always to stand armed. “Stand, then,” he says, “having girded yourselves”; which itself belongs to the present time; and he showed that we must always be armed. For great is the war through the tongue, great through the eyes; let us restrain this, then; great is the war of the desires. That is why he begins to arm the soldier of Christ from there: “Stand, then,” he says, “having girded your loins”; and he added, “with truth.” Why “with truth”? Because desire is mockery and falsehood; as David too said somewhere, “My loins are filled with mockeries.” The thing is not pleasure, but a shadow of pleasure. That is why he says, “having girded your loins with truth,” that is, with true pleasure, with self-control, with modesty … For this reason he exhorts, knowing the absurdity of sin, and wishing all our members to be [fenced round]. And he wishes us to put on a breastplate and a shield. For anger is a beast that leaps out easily, and we need countless walls and partitions to overcome and restrain it. And for this reason above all God built this part of us, as it were, out of stones, the bones, setting these around it as a support, so that this creature, the heart, should not easily burst through or cut its way out and do harm. For it is fire, it says, and a great storm, and no other member could withstand this violence. And the children of physicians too say that for this reason the lung has been spread beneath the heart, so that the heart, leaping as into something soft, as into a sponge, may come to rest, and not be harmed by the frequency of its leaps against the resisting and hard breastbone. We need, then, a strong breastplate, so as always to keep this beast in quiet. And we need a helmet too. For since the reasoning faculty is there, and by it one can be saved if what is right is done, or perish if what is not right, for this reason he says, “and the helmet of salvation.” For the brain is by nature soft; that is why it too is covered from above by the skull, as by a shell. And it becomes for us the cause of all good things and evil, whether it knows what is right or what is not. And the feet and the hands need arms; not these hands nor these feet, but again those of the soul: the hands, so that they may practice what is right; the feet, so that they may walk where they should. Let us arm ourselves so, then, and we shall be able to overcome our enemies and bind on the crown of victory, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says, Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation, in the day of testing in the wilderness, where your fathers tested me, proved me, and saw my works forty years … and I said, They always go astray in their heart; and they did not know my ways. As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter into my rest.” Having discoursed about hope, and having said, “whose house we are, if we hold fast the boldness and the boast of the hope firm to the end,” Paul now shows that one must expect with firmness, and he confirms this from the Scriptures. But pay attention; for he expressed it in a rather difficult and hard-to-grasp way. So we must first say what is ours, and having briefly taught you the whole subject, then let the discourse loose on what is written; for you will no longer need us if you learn the apostle’s aim. His discourse was about hope: that one must hope for the things to come, and that there will certainly be for those who have toiled here some reward and fruit and rest. This, then, he shows from the prophet. And what does he say? “Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says, Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation, in the day of testing in the wilderness, where your fathers tested me, proved me, and saw my works forty years. Therefore I was angry with that generation, and said, They always go astray in their heart; and they did not know my ways. As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter into my rest.” He says that there are three rests: one, that of the Sabbath, on which God rested from his works; a second, that of Palestine, into which the Jews, having entered, were to rest from their great misery and toils; a third, which is truly rest, the kingdom of heaven, whose attainers truly rest from their labors and toils. He mentions all three here, then. And why, discoursing about one, did he mention the three? To show that the prophet speaks about this one. For he did not speak about the first, he says; how could he, about one that had happened long ago? Nor about the second, that in Palestine; how could he, since that too had already received its fulfillment? It remains, then, that he speaks about the third. And it is necessary to unfold the history too, so as to make the discourse clearer. For when they had come out of Egypt and had traveled a long way, and had received countless proofs of God’s power, in Egypt, in the Red Sea, in the wilderness, [they sent spies to] … the nature of the land. And those who went came back, admiring the country and saying that it bore fine fruits, but that it was a country of invincible and strong men. And the ungrateful and senseless Jews, when they ought to have remembered God’s former benefits, and how, when they were caught in the midst of so many Egyptian armies, he not only snatched them out of the dangers but even made them masters of their spoils, and how again in the wilderness he broke open the rock and granted an abundance of water, and provided the manna, and, remembering these and the other wonders he had worked, to have believed God, thought of none of these things, but, as if nothing had happened, being so struck with terror, wished to return again to Egypt, saying, “God has brought us out here to kill us with our children and wives.” God, then, angered that they had so quickly cast out the memory of what had happened, swore that the generation that had said these things should not enter into the rest; and all perished in the wilderness. Since, then, David afterwards, after the generation of those men, said, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation,” why? So that you may not suffer the same things as your forefathers, and be deprived of the rest. Clearly he said these things as though there were some rest. For if they had received the rest, he says, why does he say to them again, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation”? What other rest is there, then, but the kingdom of heaven, of which the Sabbath is an image and type? Then, having set down the whole testimony (it is this: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation, in the day of testing in the wilderness, where your fathers tested me, proved me, and saw my works forty years. Therefore I was angry with that generation, and said, They always go astray in their heart; and they did not know my ways. As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter into my rest”), he then adds, “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in falling away from the living God.” For unbelief comes from hardness; and just as the calloused and hardened parts of the body do not yield to the physicians’ hands, so also souls that have been hardened do not yield to the word of God; for it is likely that some were by now even disbelieving, as though what had happened were not true. That is why he says, “Take care lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in falling away from the living God.” For since the account of things to come is not so persuasive as that of things past, he reminds them of a history in which they needed faith. For if your fathers, he says, suffered these things because they did not hope as they should have hoped, much more you; for this word is addressed to them too. For “today,” he says, is always, as long as the world stands. “But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called today.” That is, build one another up, set one another upright, so that the same things may not happen. “So that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.”

Do you see that sin produces unbelief? For just as unbelief gives birth to a wicked life, so too the soul, when it comes into the depth of evils, becomes contemptuous; and having become contemptuous, it will not even bear to believe, so as to free itself from fear. “For they said,” it says, “The Lord will not see, nor will the God of Jacob understand”; and again, “Our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?” and again, “The fool said in his heart … in their practices.” And again, “There is no fear of God before his eyes”; and again, “He has dealt deceitfully before him, so as to find his iniquity and hate it.” And Christ too makes this very thing plain, saying, “Everyone who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light.” Then he adds, “For we have become partakers of Christ.” What is “we have become partakers of Christ”? We share in him, he says; we and he have become one, since he is the head and we the body, fellow heirs and of one body. “We are one body, of his flesh,” he says, “and of his bones.” “If we hold the beginning of our confidence firm to the end.” What is “the beginning of our confidence”? He means faith, through which we have come to subsist and have been brought into being and made one in substance [with him], as one might say. Then he adds, “While it is said, Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation.” This is by transposition; the sequence runs thus: “Let us fear, then, lest any of you should seem to have come short of his rest. For we have had the good news preached to us, just as they did, while it is said, Today, if you hear his voice.” For “today” is always. Then he adds, “But the word they heard did not profit them, since it was not mixed with faith in those who heard”; showing how the word did not profit; they were not profited because it was not mixed. Then, wishing to frighten them, he shows this very thing by saying, “For some, when they heard, provoked; yet not all who came out of Egypt through Moses. And with whom was he angry forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies fell in the wilderness? And to whom did he swear that they should not enter into his rest, but to those who disobeyed? And we see that they could not enter in because of unbelief.” Having again cited the testimony, he adds the question too, making the discourse clear. For he said, he says, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the …” … and who disobeyed? Was it not the Jews? What he says is this: they too heard, he says, as we hear, but it was of no profit to them. Do not think, then, that you will be profited by hearing the preaching, since they too heard but gained nothing, because they did not believe. Caleb and Joshua, then, since they were not mixed with those who disbelieved, that is, did not agree with them, escaped the punishment brought upon those. And see something wonderful: he did not say “they did not agree,” [but] “they were not mixed,” as though they stood apart, while all the others held one and the same mind. Here he seems to me to hint at a faction too. “For we who have believed enter into the rest,” he says. Then, confirming this, he added, “As he has said, As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter into my rest; although the works were finished from the foundation of the world.” Since someone would likely say, “But this does not show that we shall enter, but that they did not enter,” what does he do? He is eager to show for the present that, just as that rest does not prevent another rest from being spoken of, so this one does not prevent that of heaven. For the present, then, he wishes to show that they did not obtain the rest. For that he says this is clear from what he adds: “For he has spoken somewhere about the seventh day thus: And God rested on the seventh day from all his works; and in this place again, They shall not enter into my rest.” Do you see how that one does not prevent this from being a rest? “Since, then, it remains,” he says, “for some to enter into it, and those to whom the good news was first preached did not enter because of disobedience, again he sets a certain day, Today, saying through David after so long a time, as it has been said before.” What is it that he says? Since some must certainly enter, he says, and they did not enter, he again sets a third, other rest. And that one must enter, and that some must enter, let us hear from what he establishes it. Because after so many years, he says, David says again, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as in the provocation.” “For if Joshua had given them rest, he would not have spoken of another day after these things.” It is plain, then, that he says this as though some were going to obtain some reward. “So then there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God.” From where? From the command, “Do not harden your hearts.” For he would not [have said this] unless they were to do the same things, so that they should not suffer the same things, unless they were going to suffer the same things. But how were those who held Palestine going to suffer the same things, unless there were some other rest?

3. And he rightly concluded the argument. For he did not say “rest,” but “Sabbath rest,” calling the kingdom a Sabbath rest, the proper name, and one in which they rejoiced and which they eagerly pursued. For just as on the Sabbath he commands abstaining from all evil things, and only those things to be done which are for the worship of God, which the priests performed, and all that profits the soul, and nothing else, so too then. But he did not say it so; how then? “For he who has entered into his rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from his own.” Just as God rested, he says, from his works, so too he who has entered into his rest. For since his discourse to them was about rest, and they very much desired to hear when it would be, to this he [turned] the discourse … And he said “today” so that they should never despair. “Exhort one another every day,” he says, “as long as it is called today.” That is, even if someone has sinned, as long as it is today, he has hopes. Let no one, then, despair while he lives. Above all, he says, let there not even be an evil heart of unbelief; but if there should be, let no one despair, but let him recover himself; for as long as we are in this world, the “today” has its season. And here he speaks not of unbelief only, but also of the murmurings. “Whose bodies,” he says, “fell in the wilderness.” Then, so that no one may think that he will simply be deprived of the [rest] only, he adds punishment too, saying, “For the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” Here he discourses about gehenna and about punishment. It penetrates, he says, into the secret places of our heart, and cuts through the soul. Here it is not bodies falling, nor being deprived of land, as there, but of the kingdom of heaven, and being handed over to eternal gehenna and to undying punishment and vengeance. “But exhort one another.” See the gentleness and kindness; he did not say “rebuke,” but “exhort.” So must we deal with those who are hard pressed by affliction. This he says writing to the Thessalonians too: “Admonish the disorderly.” But about the fainthearted, not so; but what? “Encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with all.” What is “exhort”? In place of “do not despair, do not give up hope”; for whoever does not exhort one hard pressed by affliction makes him harder. “So that none of you,” he says, “may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” Either he means the deceit of the devil; for it is truly deceit to expect nothing about things to come, to think that our deeds will be without account, and that we shall not pay the penalty for what we have done here, and that there will be no resurrection; or, in another sense, deceit is insensibility, or despair; for to say, “What is left now? I have sinned once; I have no hope of restoring myself,” is deceit. Then he puts hopes in them, saying, “We have become partakers of Christ”; all but saying, he who so loved us, who counted us worthy of so much as to make us his own body, will not overlook us as we perish. Let us consider what we have been counted worthy of: we and Christ are one. Let us not, then, distrust him. And again he hints at what was said elsewhere: “If we endure, we shall also reign with him”; for this is “we have become partakers”: we share in the same things as Christ. He urged them on from the good things: “For we are partakers,” he says, “of Christ.” Then again from the gloomy things: “lest any of you should seem to have come short of entering into his rest”; for that is clear and agreed. “They proved me,” he says, “and saw my works forty years.” Do you see that we must not demand an account from God, but believe him whether he protects us or not? For this is what he now charges against them, that they tested God. For he who wishes to receive proofs of his power, or of his providence, or of his care, does not yet believe either that he is powerful or that he loves mankind. This he hints at in writing to these too, who perhaps wished already to receive in their trials the examination and proof of his power and of his providence on their behalf. Do you see that provocation and anger everywhere come from unbelief? What then does he say? “So then there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God.” And see how he has reasoned out the whole argument. He swore, he says, to the former generation that they should not enter into the rest, and they did not enter. Then, speaking to the Jews long after them, he says, “Do not harden your hearts, as your fathers did.” Clearly there is another rest; for one cannot say it of Palestine, since they had it; nor can one say it of the seventh day, for surely he was not discoursing about that which had happened long ago. So he hints at some other, the true rest.

4. For that is truly rest, where pain and sorrow and sighing have fled away, where there are neither cares nor toils nor anguish nor fear that shakes the soul, but only the fear of God, which is full of pleasure. There one does not hear, “In the sweat of your face you shall eat your bread,” nor, “It shall bring forth thorns and thistles for you”: no more thorns and thistles. There is no “In pain you shall bear children,” nor, “Your turning shall be to your husband, and he shall rule over you.” All is peace there, joy, gladness, pleasure, goodness, gentleness, uprightness, love. There is no jealousy there, nor envy, no sickness, no death, neither this of the body nor that of the soul; there is no darkness, nor night; all is day, all light, all ease; there is no growing weary, no becoming sated, but we shall continue always in desire of the good things. Do you wish me to give you some image too of the state there? It is not possible; but nevertheless, as far as possible, I will try to give you some image. Let us look up to heaven, when, with no cloud troubling it, it shows its own crown; then, having spent a long time on the beauty of its appearance, let us consider that we too shall have a floor, not such as this, but as much more beautiful as gold is than roofs of clay; then again the higher roof beyond that; then the angels, the archangels, the countless hosts of the bodiless powers, the very palace of God, the Father’s throne. But speech, as I said, cannot set forth the whole; there is need of experience and of the knowledge that comes through experience. How do you think, tell me, Adam was in paradise? This way of life is far better than that, by as much as heaven is better than earth. But shall we seek another image too? If it happened that the one who now reigns ruled the whole world, and then were troubled neither by wars nor by cares, but were only honored and lived in luxury, and had many tributes, and gold flowed in to him from every side, and he were the object of all eyes, what kind of soul do you think he would have, if he saw wars everywhere on earth at an end? Something of this kind it will be then too; or rather, I have not yet reached even an image of it; so another must be sought. Consider, then, a royal child, which, as long as it is in the womb, perceives nothing; but if it happened that, coming out from there suddenly, it went up to the royal throne, receiving everything not gradually but all at once; so is this state compared with that; or as if some prisoner, after suffering countless ills, were suddenly caught up to the royal throne. But not even so have I exactly reached the image. For here, whatever good things one obtains, even if you speak of the kingdom itself, on the first day one has the longing at its height, and on the second and third; but as time goes on, he remains in pleasure, yet not so great; for it always fades through habit, whatever it may be. But there, it not only does not lessen, but even increases. For consider how great a thing it is for a soul that has gone there no longer to expect an end of those good things, nor a change, but an increase, and a life that has no end, freed from all danger, from all despondency and care, full of cheer and of countless good things. For if, going out to a plain where we see tents of soldiers made of curtains, and shields gleaming, we are lifted up with wonder, and if it happens that we see the king too riding in the midst, or driving his horse with golden arms, we think we have everything, what do you suppose, when you see the eternal tents of the saints pitched in heaven? “For they will receive you,” he says, “into their eternal tents”; when you see each of them shining beyond the rays of the sun, not from bronze and iron, but from that glory whose flashing the human eye cannot look upon? And these things are about men; what could one say of the thousands of angels, of archangels, of the cherubim, of the seraphim, of the thrones, of the dominions, of the principalities, of the powers, whose beauty is beyond conception and surpasses all understanding? But how long shall I not stop, pursuing what cannot be overtaken? “For eye has not seen,” he says, “nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love him.” Nothing, then, is more pitiable than those who fail of it, nor more blessed than those who attain it. And may we too be among the blessed, so that we may obtain the eternal good things, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“Let us be eager, then, to enter into that rest, so that no one may fall by the same example of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart; and there is no creature hidden before him, but all things are naked and laid bare to his eyes, to whom our account is to be given.” Faith is a great thing and saving, and without it one can never be saved. But it is not enough by itself to accomplish this; there is need also of a right way of life. That is why Paul too exhorts those already counted worthy of the mysteries, saying, “Let us be eager to enter into that rest.” “Let us be eager,” he says, as though faith were not enough, but life too had to be added, and great eagerness shown. For we truly need great eagerness to go up to heaven. For if those who endured so much hardship in the wilderness were not counted worthy of the land, and could not obtain the land, because they murmured and committed sexual immorality, how shall we [be counted worthy] of heaven? We need great eagerness, then. And see, he did not limit the penalty only to this, to not entering; for he did not say, “Let us be eager to enter into the rest, so that we may not fall from such great good things”; but he added what most rouses men. What is that? “So that no one may fall by the same example of disobedience”; that is, so that we may have our mind there, our hope, our expectation, so that we may not fall away in the same way. For that we shall fall away, the example makes plain: “by the same,” he says. Then, so that on hearing “by the same” you may not think the punishment is the same, hear what he adds: “For the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” Here too he shows that it was the Word of God himself who did those things too, and that he lives and has not been quenched. Do not, then, because you hear “word,” think it merely a word; for it is sharper, he says, than a sword. See the condescension, and learn from this why the prophets too needed to speak of a sword and a bow and a broadsword. “If you do not turn,” it says, “he will polish his sword; he has bent his bow and made it ready.” For if now, after so long a time and maturity, he cannot strike them with awe by the name of “word” alone, but needs these expressions to show the superiority by comparison, much more then. “Piercing to the division of soul and spirit.” What is this? He hinted at something fearful. For he means either that it divides the spirit from the soul, or that it penetrates even the bodiless things themselves, not as a sword does bodies only. Here he shows that the soul too is punished, and that the innermost parts are searched, and that it penetrates the whole man through and through. “And able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And there is no creature hidden before him.” Here he frightened them most. What he says is this: Do not, he means, be confident if you still stand in the faith but without full assurance; he will judge what is in the heart; for there he passes, both punishing and examining. And why do I speak of men, he says? Even if you speak of angels, or archangels, or the cherubim, or the seraphim, or any creature whatever, all things are uncovered to that eye, all are plain and manifest; nothing can escape him. “All things are naked and laid bare to his eyes, to whom our account is to be given.” He said “laid bare” by a metaphor from the skins drawn off sacrificial victims when they are slaughtered. For just as with those, when someone has slaughtered and drawn the skin off the flesh, all the inner parts are uncovered and become plain to our eyes, so too all things lie plain before God. But see how he always needs bodily images; which was due to the weakness of the hearers. For that they were weak he made plain by saying that they were sluggish and needed milk, not solid food. “All things are naked,” he says, “and laid bare to his eyes, to whom our account is to be given.” And what is “by the same example of disobedience”? As if someone giving the cause should say: Why did those men not see the land? They had received [proofs], he says, of God’s power, and when they should have believed, they gave more weight to fear, and [thought] nothing great about … they perished. And one may say something else too: that having accomplished the greater part of the journey, when they were at the very doors, at the very harbor, they were sunk. This I fear for you too, he says. This, then, is “by the same example of disobedience.” For that these too had suffered much, he bears witness to them later, saying, “Remember the former days … you endured … of sufferings.” Let no one, then, lose heart, nor give up and fall down toward the end. For there are, there are those who at the beginning [ran] with vigor, but afterwards, not wishing to add a little to the whole, lost everything. Your forefathers, he says, are enough to teach you not to fall into the same things, so as not to suffer what they suffered. And this is “by the same example of disobedience.” Let us not, then, grow faint, he says; which he says toward the end too: “Lift up the drooping hands and the weakened knees.” “So that no one may fall,” he says, “by the same example.” For this is truly to fall. Then, so that on hearing “may fall by the same example” you may not suppose the same death that those men endured, see what he says: “For the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword.” For falling upon the souls of these more grievously than any sword, the word makes grievous wounds and deals deadly cuts. And he does not need to provide proof of these things, nor to argue for them, since he has the history so plain. For what war destroyed those men, he says? What sword? Did they not simply fall of themselves? Let us not, then, because we have not suffered the same things, be careless; as long as it is called today, we can recover ourselves. But since he spoke so, lest on hearing of the things of the soul they should grow careless, he adds the things of the body too, showing that just as a king, when officers have committed great offenses, first strips them, as it were, of their military rank, then takes away their belt and their dignity, and having stationed the herald beside them, then punishes them, so too the sword of the Spirit then does its work. Then, having said this, and making the discourse still more fearful, he speaks about the Son, and says, “to whom our account is to be given”; instead of, to him we are to give account of our deeds. Let us not, then, fall back, nor lose heart. What has been said was enough to instruct; but he is not content, but adds still more, saying, “Having, then, a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the [Son of God] …”

For that he added this for this reason, he went on: “For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses.” That is why he said above, “For in that he himself has suffered, being tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted.” See, then, how he does the same here too. What he says is this: He came, he says, … the road that we too now [travel], or rather a rougher one; for he had experience of all human things. There he said, “There is no creature hidden before him,” hinting at the Godhead. Then, since [he had touched on] the flesh, … “Having, then, a great high priest who has passed through the heavens”; and he shows the care to be greater, and that he protects them as his own, and does not wish them to fall away. For Moses, he says, did not enter into the rest, but he himself entered; and how, I will tell you. And it is no wonder that he nowhere set this down; for either, so that they might not seem to find an excuse, he included him too; or, so that he might not seem to accuse the man, he did not say it openly. For if, when none of these things had been said, they brought these charges, saying, “He has spoken against Moses and against the law,” much more, if he had said, “It is not Palestine, but heaven,” would they have said greater things than these. But he does not give everything to the priest, but seeks also what is ours, I mean the confession. “Having, then,” he says, “a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.” What confession does he mean? That there is a resurrection, that there is a recompense, that there are countless good things, that Christ is God, that the faith is right; these let us confess, these let us hold fast. And that these things are true is plain from the high priest’s being within. Let us confess, then, that we have not fallen away; even if the realities are not present, still let us confess; if they were present already, it would be false. So this too is true, that they are deferred; for our high priest is great. “For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses.” He is not, he says, ignorant of our affairs, as many of the high priests are, who do not know those in afflictions, nor even what affliction is. For among men it is impossible for one who has not had experience and gone through it by the senses to know the misery of the one in misery. Our high priest underwent everything; for this reason he first underwent it, and then went up, so that he might be able to sympathize. “But one who has been tempted in every respect according to likeness, without sin.” See how above he put “likewise,” and here “likeness.” That is, he was persecuted, spat upon, at last crucified. “According to likeness, without sin.” Here he hints at something else too, that it is possible even for one in afflictions to come through without sin. So when he also says, “in the likeness of flesh,” he does not mean that it was a likeness of flesh, but that he took flesh. Why then did he say “in the likeness”? He was speaking of sinful flesh; for it was like our flesh; in nature it was the same as ours, but in sin no longer the same. “Let us, then, draw near with boldness to the throne of his grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace for timely help.” What throne of grace does he mean? The royal throne, about which it says, “The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.” As if he said: Let us draw near with boldness, because we have one without sin … “I have overcome the world,” he says. For to suffer all things and yet be clean of sins, this is it. If we are under sin, he means, yet he is without sin. How let us draw near with boldness? Because it is a throne of grace, not a throne of judgment now. For this reason “let us draw near with boldness, that we may receive mercy,” such as we seek, he says. For the thing is munificence and a royal gift. “And find grace for timely help.” He rightly said, “for timely help.” If you draw near now, he says, you will receive both grace and mercy, for you draw near in good time; but if you draw near then, no longer; for then the approach is out of season; for then it is not a throne of grace. It is a throne of grace as long as the King sits granting favors; but when the consummation comes, then he rises up to judgment: “Arise, O God,” it says, “judge the earth.” And one may say something else too: “Let us draw near,” he says, “with boldness,” that is, having nothing evil on the conscience, not doubting; for such a person cannot draw near with boldness. That is why he says elsewhere too, “At an acceptable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I helped you.” For even now, that those who sin after the washing find repentance is of grace. And so that, hearing him called high priest, you may not think that he stands, he at once leads him to the throne; but the priest does not sit, he stands. Do you see that becoming high priest is not of nature, but of grace and condescension and self-emptying? This it is fitting for us too to say now: let us draw near with boldness, asking; let us only bring faith, and he gives everything. Now is the time of the gift; let no one despair of himself. Then is the time of despair, when the bridal chamber is shut, when the king comes in to see the guests, when those who are to be counted worthy of these things receive the bosom of the patriarch; but not yet now; for the theater is still assembled, the contest still stands, the prize is still held up.

Let us be eager, then; for Paul too says, “So I run, not aimlessly.” There is need of running, and of vigorous running. The runner looks at none of all the others, whether he passes through meadows or through dry places; the runner looks not to the spectators but to the prize; whether they are rich or poor, whether someone mocks or praises, insults or throws stones, whether he plunders his house, whether he sees children or wife or anything whatever, he does not turn round at all, but is wholly given to one thing only, to running, to winning the prize. The runner stops nowhere; for if he slackens even a little, he has lost everything. The runner not only does not let up before the finish, but then above all he strains his pace. This I say to those who say, “We have … we have grown old now.” Now above all you should strain your devotion. Do not count up your old achievements for me; be young and in your prime now rather. For one who runs this bodily race naturally can no longer run as before once gray hair overtakes him; for in the body the whole contest lies. But you, why do you slacken your race? For here there is need of the soul, of a soul wide awake; and the soul is strengthened in old age; then rather it is in its prime, then it is in high spirits. For just as a body, as long as it is gripped by fevers and successive illnesses, is worn out even if it is strong, but when it is freed from that siege recovers its own strength, so too the soul in youth is fevered, and the love of glory especially holds it, and of luxury and sexual pleasures and many other fancies; but when old age comes upon it, all these passions are driven out, some by the season of life, others by wisdom. For old age, slackening the sinews of the body, does not let the soul use them even if it wishes, but, having subdued all kinds of enemies, as it were, sets it down in a place clear of tumults, and produces a great calm, and brings in greater fear. For if no one else, the old at least know that they are dying, and that they stand quite near to death. When, then, the worldly desires withdraw, and the expectation of the judgment seat comes in, softening its disobedience, does it not become more attentive, if it will? “What then,” one says, “when we see old men worse than the young?” You tell me of an excess of wickedness; for with madmen too, with no one pushing them, we see them rushing over cliffs. When, then, an old man too suffers the diseases of the young, this is an excess of wickedness; and such a man would not have an excuse even in his youth; for he cannot say, “Remember not the sins of my youth and of my ignorance.” For one who remains the same in old age shows that in his youth too he was such not through ignorance, nor through inexperience, nor through his age, but through carelessness. For the one who can say, “Remember not the sins of my youth and of my ignorance,” is the one who does what befits an old man, who is changed in old age; but if in old age too he behaves in the same unseemly way, how is it right for such a man to be called old, who does not respect even his age? For the one who says, “Remember not the sins of my youth and of my ignorance,” says it as one who does right in old age … yourself, and [deprive yourself] of the pardon for the sins of youth. For how is what happens not absurd and beyond pardon? An old man gets drunk, sits in taverns; an old man hurries to the horse races, an old man goes up to the theaters, running with the crowd like a child. It is truly a shame and a laughingstock to be adorned outwardly with gray hair, but inwardly to have the mind of a child. And if some young man insults him, he at once puts forward his gray hairs. You respect them first yourself; but if you do not respect your own, though you are an old man, how do you expect the young man to respect your gray hairs? You do not respect your gray hairs, you disgrace them. God has honored you with whiteness of hair, he has given you great precedence; why do you betray the honor? How will the young man respect you, when you are more wanton than he? For gray hair is venerable then, when it does the things of gray hair; but when it acts like youth, it will be more ridiculous than the young. How then will you old men be able to give this advice to the young, you who are drunk with disorder? I do not say these things accusing the old, God forbid, but the young. For those who do these things, it seems to me, even if they reach their hundredth year, are young; just as the young, even if they are small children, if they are self-controlled, are better than the old. And this word is not mine; Scripture too knows this distinction: “Honorable old age is not that of length of time … and a spotless life is ripe old age.”

For we honor gray hair too, not because we prefer the white color to the black, but because it is a sign of a virtuous life, and seeing it we infer from it the gray hair within; but if they do things contrary to gray hair, they will become the more ridiculous for this. For we honor the king too, and the purple and the diadem, because they are symbols of rule; but if we see him in the purple … being beaten, shall we respect the purple or the diadem, tell me? Shall we not rather weep over the very dress? Do not, then, expect to be honored for your gray hair when you yourself wrong it; for it too ought to exact a penalty from you, because you disgrace so splendid and honorable a dress. We do not say these things against all, nor is our discourse simply against old age (I am not so mad), but against a young soul that disgraces old age; nor do we say these things grieving over the aged, but over those who disgrace the gray hair. For the old man is a king, if he wishes, and more kingly than the one who has the purple, if he rules his passions and subjects them as in the rank of bodyguards; but if he is dragged down and pulled from the throne, and becomes a slave of the love of money and of vainglory, of adornment and luxury and drunkenness and anger and sexual pleasures, and anoints his hair with oil, and shows his age insulted by his own choice, of what punishment would such a man not be worthy? But do not you young men become such either; for there is no pardon for you either when you sin. Why? Because it is possible to be old in youth; and just as some are young in old age, so the reverse too. For just as there whitened hair saves no one, so here black hair is no hindrance. For if these things that I have mentioned make the old man more unseemly, much more the young man; yet even so the young man is not free from accusation. For a young man can have pardon only there, when he is called to the management of affairs, when he is inexperienced, when he needs time and experience; but when he must show self-control and courage, no longer, nor when he must master money. For there are cases where the young man is more to be accused than the old. For the old man needs much care, since old age has weakened him; but this one, being able to suffice for himself if he wishes, what pardon would he obtain if he will not, when he plunders more than the old man, when he bears grudges, when he despises others, when he does not protect others more than the old man, when he talks much out of season, when he insults, when he reviles, when he is drunk? And if he thinks that in the matter of self-control he cannot be blamed, see that here too he has many helps, if he wishes. For even if desire troubles him more vehemently than the old man, yet there are many things by which he will be able to do more than the old man and to charm that beast. What are these? Toils, readings, all-night vigils, fasts … “What then,” you say, “are these things to us who are not monks?” Do you say these things to me? Say them to Paul, when he says, “watching with all perseverance and supplication”; when he says, “Make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” For he did not write these things to monks only, but to all who are in the cities. For does the man of the world have anything more than the monk, except only living with a wife? In this he has pardon, but in other things no longer; it befits him to do all things equally with the monk. And the beatitudes spoken by Christ were not spoken to monks only; otherwise the whole world would have perished, and we would have accused God of cruelty. And if the beatitudes were spoken to monks only, and it is not possible for the man of the world to achieve them, and he himself permitted marriage, then he himself has destroyed all. For if it is not possible with marriage to do the things of monks, all is lost and corrupted, and virtue has been shut up in a narrow space. And how is marriage honorable, if it hinders us so much? What then is one to say? It is possible, very possible, for those who have wives also to pursue virtue, if we will. How? If, having a wife, we are as though we had none; if we do not rejoice in possessions; if we use the world as not abusing it. And if some have been hindered by marriage, let them see that it is not marriage that is the hindrance, but the will that used marriage badly; since it is not wine that produces drunkenness, but the evil will, and using it beyond measure. Use marriage with moderation, and you will be first in the kingdom, and will enjoy 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.

“For every high priest taken from among men is appointed on behalf of men in things relating to God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins; he can deal gently with the ignorant and the erring, since he himself is beset with weakness; and because of this he must offer for sins, as for the people, so also for himself.” The blessed Paul now wishes to show that this covenant is much better than the old; and he does this by laying down his reasonings beforehand from afar. For since there was nothing bodily or for show, for example, no temple, no holy of holies, no priest with so great an array, no legal observances, but everything higher and more perfect, and nothing bodily, but the whole was in spiritual things, and spiritual things did not draw the weaker sort so much as bodily things, for this reason he takes up this whole discourse. And see his wisdom: he makes his beginning from the priest first, and continually calls him high priest, and first shows the difference from him. That is why he first defines what a priest is, and shows what belongs to a priest and what are the symbols of priesthood. And since it was objected against him that he was not of noble birth, nor of a priestly tribe, nor a priest on earth, it was likely that some would say for this reason, “How then is this man a priest?” What he does in the Epistle to the Romans, he does now too. For having taken up an argument hard to believe, that faith accomplishes what the toil of the law and the sweat of a way of life could not, and wishing to show that what seemed impossible has come to pass and been achieved, he took refuge in the patriarch and carried the whole back to that time. So here too he cuts the other road of the priesthood, setting before it those that came earlier. And just as, in speaking of punishment, he does not bring forward gehenna only, but also what befell the fathers, so too here: first he confirms this from things present. For earthly things ought to be made credible from heavenly things; but when the hearers are weak, the reverse happens. For the present, then, he first sets down what is common, and then shows what surpasses. For superiority by comparison comes about in this way, when it shares in some things and surpasses in others; otherwise it no longer comes about by comparison. “For every high priest taken from among men.” This is common to Christ. “Is appointed on behalf of men in things relating to God.” This too is common. “To offer gifts and sacrifices for the people.” This too, though not wholly; but the rest, no longer. “He can deal gently with the ignorant and the erring.” Here now is the superiority. “Since he himself is beset with weakness, and because of this he must offer for sins, as for the people, so also for himself.” Then he adds something else too: that he is made by another, and does not leap into it himself. This too is common. “And one does not take the honor for himself, but is called by God, just as Aaron was.” Here again he heals another point, that he was sent from God; which Christ said up and down when discoursing with the Jews: “He who sent me is greater than I,” and, “I have not come of myself.” Here he seems to me to hint also at the priests of the Jews, as being no priests, men who leaped into the office and corrupted the law of the priesthood. “So also Christ did not glorify himself to become high priest.” Where then was he appointed, he says? For Aaron was appointed many times, as in the case of the rod, and when the fire came down and destroyed those who leaped into the priesthood; but here the contrary: they not only suffered nothing, but are even held in honor. From where, then? He shows it from prophecy. He has nothing perceptible, nothing visible; that is why he argues from prophecy, from things to come. “But he who said to him,” he says, “You are my Son, today I have begotten you.” What has this to do with the Son? Yes, he says, this was said to the Son. And what does such a thing contribute to the question? Very much; for it is a preparation for his being appointed by God. “As he also says in another place, You are a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek.” To whom was this said? Who is according to the order of Melchizedek? No one but he; for all were under the law; if anyone can show another, he says, [let him]. “Who in the days of his flesh, having offered up prayers and supplications with loud crying and tears to him who was able to save him from death, and having been heard because of his reverence, although he was a Son, learned obedience from what he suffered.” Do you see that he does nothing else than set forth his care and the excess of his love? For what does “with loud crying” mean? Nowhere does the Gospel say this, nor that he wept when he prayed, nor that he uttered a cry. Do you see that it was condescension? For it was not enough to say that he prayed, but also “with loud crying.” “And having been heard,” he says, “because of his reverence. Although he was a Son, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and having been made perfect he became to all who obey him the cause of eternal salvation, being designated by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.” Granted, “with crying”; why “and having been heard because of his reverence”? … Let the heretics who reject the flesh [be ashamed]. What do you say? Was the Son of God heard because of his reverence? And what more could one say of the prophets? And what … to add, “Although he was a Son, he learned obedience from what he suffered”? Would anyone say these things about God? And who is so mad? Who, out of his mind, would have uttered these things? “Having been heard,” he says, “because of his reverence, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” What obedience did he learn? He who before this had obeyed even to death, as a son a father, how did he learn it afterwards?

2. Do you see that it is said of the flesh? Tell me, did he entreat the Father that he might be saved from death, and was he for this reason very sorrowful, and did he say, “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me”? Yet nowhere did he entreat the Father concerning the resurrection; on the contrary, he himself declares, saying, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up”; and, “I have authority to lay down my life, and I have authority to take it again; no one takes it from me, but I lay it down of myself.” What then is it? And for what did he entreat? And again he says, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes, and [they will deliver] him to the Gentiles to mock and scourge and crucify, and on the third day he will rise.” And he did not say, “The Father will raise me.” How then did he entreat about this? But about whom did he entreat? About those who believed in him. What he says is this: … is heard easily. For since they did not yet have the right opinion about him, he said that he was heard; as he himself too said, consoling the disciples, “If you loved me, you would have rejoiced, because I am going to the Father, for my Father is greater than I.” And how did he not glorify himself, who emptied himself, who gave himself up? “For he gave himself,” it says, “for our sins”; and again, “who gave himself as a ransom for us all.” What then is it? Do you see that because of the flesh he speaks lowly things about himself? So here too: “although he was a Son, he was heard because of his reverence,” he says. For he wishes to show his achievement rather than the grace of God. So great, he says, was his reverence, that because of it God himself respected him. “He learned obedience” to God, he says. Here again he shows how great the gain of sufferings is. “And having been made perfect,” he says, “he became to all who obey him the cause of salvation.” And if he, being a Son, gained obedience from sufferings, much more we. Do you see how much he discourses about obedience, so as to persuade them? For they seem to me to have been continually restive and not following what was said; for he hinted at this by saying, “You have become dull of hearing.” From what he suffered, he says, he continually learned to obey God. “And having been made perfect,” through sufferings, he says. This, then, is perfection, and through this one must come to perfection. For not only was he himself saved, but this became to others too an abundance of salvation. “Having been made perfect, he became to those who obey him the cause of eternal salvation, being designated,” he says, “by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek. About whom we have much to say, and it is hard to explain.” Being about to bring his discourse down to the difference of the priesthood, he first rebukes them, showing that even such great condescension was milk, and that because they were infants he lingered longer on the lowly discourse about the flesh, and discoursed about him as about some righteous man. And see: he neither kept silent altogether about the discourse, nor spoke it; the one, so as to lift up their mind and persuade them to be mature, and not be deprived of the great doctrines, he has done; the other, so as not to bury their mind. “About whom we have much to say,” he says, “and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing.” Since they do not hear, therefore the discourse is hard to explain. For when someone has to do with men who do not follow nor understand what is said, he cannot explain things well to them. But perhaps one of you standing here grows dizzy, and thinks it a wrong that he was hindered by the Hebrews from speaking the more perfect discourse. Perhaps here too, apart from a few, I think many are such that this may be said of you too; but for the sake of the few I will speak. Did he, then, keep silent, or did he take it up again in what follows, and do the same as in the Epistle to the Romans? For there too, having first silenced the objectors and said, “Rather, O man, who are you to answer back to God?”, he then brings in the solution. But I think that he neither kept silent altogether nor spoke, so as to bring the hearers to longing. For having mentioned it and said that great things were stored up in the discourse, see how he makes the rebuke with praise. For this is always Paul’s wisdom, to mix hard things with kind ones; which he does in the Epistle to the Galatians too, saying, “You were running well; who hindered you?” and, “Did you suffer so many things in vain, if indeed it was in vain?” and, “I am confident about you in the Lord.” Which he says to these too: “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, and things belonging to salvation.” For he does two things: he neither presses them too hard nor lets them fall back; rightly; for if the examples of others are enough to rouse the hearer and bring him to emulation, when someone has the example from himself and is urged to emulate himself, much more does the power of the teaching come in from this. This, then, he shows, and he does not let them fall back as utterly condemned, nor as always being bad, but says that they were once good too: “For though by this time you ought to be teachers.” Here he shows that they had believed long ago; and he shows that they ought to instruct others too. See, then, how he is continually in labor to bring in the discourse about the high priest, and always puts it off. Hear how he began: “Having a great high priest who has passed through the heavens”; and, omitting to say how great, he says again, “For every high priest taken from among men is appointed on behalf of men in things relating to God”; and again, “So also Christ did not glorify himself to become high priest.” And again, having said, “You are a priest forever according to the order …”, “who in the days of his flesh … prayers.”

3. Since, then, he was so often driven off, he says as if excusing himself, The cause lies with you. Alas, how great a difference! Though they ought to teach others, they are not even simply disciples, but the last of disciples. “For though by this time you ought to be teachers,” he says, “you again need someone to teach you the elements of the beginning of the oracles of God.” Here by “elements of the beginning” he means the humanity. For just as in secular letters one must first learn the elements, so too in the divine oracles one had first to be taught about the humanity. Do you see the cause of speaking lowly things? So too Paul did when discoursing with the Athenians, saying, “The times of ignorance, then, God overlooked; now he commands men … a day, on which he will judge the world in righteousness, by a man whom he has appointed, having given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.” For this reason, if he says something lofty, he says it briefly, while the lowly things are scattered in many places of the epistle. And in this way too the loftiness is shown; for the very lowliness does not allow these things to be suspected of the Godhead. So here too, keeping to what is safe, he attaches the lowly things to the humanity; and the cause is that they could not hear the perfect things. This he signified especially in the Epistle to the Corinthians, saying, “For where there is jealousy and strife and divisions among you, are you not fleshly?” But see his great wisdom, how he always deals suitably with the underlying passions. For there the weakness came mostly from ignorance, or rather from sins; but here not from sins only, but also from continual afflictions; that is why he used words able to express the difference: there saying, “You are fleshly,” but here, since the pain is greater, “You have become dull.” And they were not able to bear it, being fleshly; but these were able. For to say, “since you have become dull of hearing,” was the language of one showing that they had once been healthy and strong, boiling with eagerness; and he bears witness that they suffered this later. “And you have become such as need milk, and not solid food.” He always calls the lowly discourse milk, both here and there. “Though by this time you ought to be teachers,” he says; as if he said, Through that through which you have above all grown faint and become supine, through this above all you ought to be strong, by reason of the time. And he calls the lowly discourse milk because it suits the simpler; but this is contrary for the more mature, and it is harmful to linger in it. So the things of the law should not now be brought in, nor the comparison made from them, that he is high priest, and that he sacrificed, and that he prayed with crying and supplication. See, at any rate, how these things disagree with us; but they nourished those men then, never disagreeing with them. So the oracles of God are true food, nourishing the soul. And that the word is food is plain from this: “I will give them,” it says, “not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but a famine of hearing the word of the Lord.” “I gave you milk to drink, not food.” He did not say, “I fed you,” showing that such a thing is not food, but as with little children who cannot be fed with bread (for such are not given drink, but the food serves them instead of drink); so here too. And he did not say, “You need,” but “You have become such as need milk, and not solid food”; that is, you willed it, you yourselves brought yourselves into this state, into this need. “For everyone who partakes of milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is an infant.” What is “the word of righteousness”? Here he seems to me to hint at life too; as Christ also said, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees.” This he too says: “unskilled in the word of righteousness,” that is, unskilled in the higher wisdom, he cannot receive a life that is perfect and exact. Or by “righteousness” he means Christ here, and the lofty discourse about him. That they had become dull, then, he said; but from what cause, he did not add, leaving it to them to know, and not wishing to make the discourse offensive. But in the case of the Galatians he both wondered and was at a loss; which is much greater for consolation, as of one who would never have expected this to happen. For this is what the perplexity is. Do you see that infancy is one thing? Do you see that maturity is another? Let us become mature, then, with this maturity; it is possible even for boys and young men to come to that maturity; for it is not of nature, but of virtue. “But solid food is for the mature, for those who because of practice have their faculties trained to distinguish good and evil.” What then? Did those not have their faculties trained, nor know what is good and evil? Here his discourse is not about life when he says, “to distinguish good and evil”; for this it is possible and easy for every man to know; but about doctrines sound and lofty, and corrupt and lowly. The child does not know how to distinguish bad food from good; often at any rate it puts even dirt into its mouth, and takes in what is harmful, and does everything without discernment; but the mature is not so. Such are those who simply give heed to all, and indiscriminately hand over their ears to the unapproved. And he blames these, as carried about at random, and giving themselves now to these, now to those; which he hinted at toward the end too, saying, “Do not be carried away by various and strange teachings.” This is “to distinguish good and evil.” “For the throat tastes food, but the soul tests words.”

Let us too learn this, then; and if you hear that someone is not a Greek nor a Jew, do not at once think him a Christian, but examine all the rest too; since the Manichees too and all the heresies have put on this mask, so as to deceive the simpler in this way. But if we have the faculties of the soul trained to distinguish good and evil, we shall be able to distinguish such people. And how do our faculties become trained? By continual hearing, by experience of the Scriptures. For when we set their error before you, and you hear it today and tomorrow, and judge that it is not right, you have learned the whole, you have known the whole; and even if you do not grasp it today, you will grasp it tomorrow. “Of those who have their faculties trained,” he says. Do you see that we must train our hearing by divine hearings, so as not to be strangers … that is, to be experienced? One says there is no resurrection; another expects nothing of the things to come; another speaks of another God; another, that he had his beginning from Mary. And see at once how all fell away from lack of measure, some by excess, others by defect. For example, the first heresy of all is Marcion’s; it brought in another God, who does not exist. See the excess. After it, Sabellius’s, saying that the Son and the Father and the Spirit are one person. Then that of Marcellus and Photinus, which holds the same. Then that of Paul of Samosata, saying that he had his beginning from Mary. Then that of the Manichees; for this is the newest of all. After those, that of Arius. And there are others too. But we have received the faith simply for this reason, so that we may not be compelled to go through countless heresies and have trouble, but whatever anyone may attempt either to add to it or take from it, this we may consider spurious. For just as those who give out rulers do not compel us to busy ourselves with countless measures, but bid us hold to that which has been given, so too with doctrines. But no one wishes to give heed to the Scriptures; for if we gave heed, not only would we not have fallen into deceit, but we would also have freed others who are deceived and dragged them out of dangers. For the strong soldier is able not only to suffice for himself, but also to guard the man beside him and free him from harm from the enemy. But now some do not even know that there are Scriptures; and yet the Holy Spirit arranged so much so that they should be preserved. And see from the beginning, so that you may learn God’s unspeakable loving-kindness. He inspired the blessed Moses; he engraved the tablets; he kept him forty days on the mountain, and again as many others, so as to give the law. And after this he sent prophets who suffered countless terrible things. War came; they destroyed everything; he inspired a wonderful man to set them forth, I mean Ezra, and caused them to be put together from the remains. And after this he arranged for them to be translated by the Seventy; those men translated them. Christ came; he receives them; the apostles scatter them among all; Christ did signs and wonders. Then what? After so much labor the apostles too wrote, as Paul too said: “They were written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the ages have come.” And Christ said, “You are mistaken, not knowing the Scriptures.” And Paul again said, “that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope”; and again, “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable”; and, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly.” And the prophet: “In his law he will meditate day and night”; and again elsewhere, “Let all your discourse be in the law of the Most High.” And again, “How sweet to my throat are your words (he did not say, to my hearing, but, to my throat), above honey and the honeycomb to my mouth.” And Moses: “You shall meditate on them,” he says, “continually, rising up, sitting down, lying down.” That is why Paul too, writing to Timothy, said, “Be in them, meditate on these things.” And one could say countless things about them. But nevertheless, after so much, there are some who do not even know that there are Scriptures at all. For this reason nothing sound, nothing useful comes from us. But if someone wishes to know the things of soldiering, he must learn the military laws; and if someone wishes to know the art of steering or of carpentry, or anything else, he must learn the things of the art; but here one can see no one doing anything of the kind; and that, though this knowledge needs much watchfulness. For that this too is an art needing teaching, hear the prophet saying, “Come, children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord.” So the fear of God truly needs teaching. Then he says, “Who is the man who desires life?” He means the life there. And again, “Keep your tongue from evil, … and do good; seek peace and pursue it.” Do you know, then, which prophet or historian or apostle or evangelist said these things? I do not think so, apart from a few; and even these again, if we bring a testimony from elsewhere, will be in the same case as you. For see, I will say this same saying spoken in other words: “Wash yourselves, become clean, put away your evils from your souls before my eyes, learn to do good, seek justice”; “keep your tongue from evil, and do good”; “learn to do good.” Do you see that virtue needs teaching? For the one says, “I will teach you the fear of the Lord”; the other, “Learn to do good.” Do you know, then, where these things are written? I do not think so, apart from a few. And yet every week these things are read to you twice or even three times; and the reader, going up, first says whose book it is, of such a prophet perhaps, or apostle, or evangelist, and then says what it says, so that it may be clearer to you, and you may know not only what is written but also the cause of what is written, and who said it. But all is to no purpose, all in vain; for all your zeal has been poured out on the things of this life, and there is no account of spiritual things. That is why those things do not turn out for you as you wish, but there are many difficulties there too. Christ says, “Seek the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you”; and these things he said would be given by way of addition; but we have reversed the order, and seek the earth and the good things on earth, as though those would be given us by way of addition. That is why we have neither these nor those. Let us come to our senses, then, at last, and become desirers of the good things to come; for so these things too will follow. For it is not possible for one who seeks the things of God not to obtain human things too; it is the declaration of the Truth himself, who says this. Let us not, then, do otherwise, but let us hold fast to Christ’s counsel, so that we may not fall from all. And God is able to prick our hearts and make us better, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor and worship, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“Therefore, leaving the word of the beginning of Christ, let us press on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, of the teaching of baptisms and of laying on of hands, of the resurrection of the dead and of eternal judgment. And this we will do, if God permits.” Have you heard how much Paul charged against the Hebrews, who wished always to learn about the same things? And rightly. “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you again need someone to teach you the elements of the beginning of the oracles of God.” But I fear that this might fitly be said to you too: that though by this time you ought to be teachers, you do not even hold the rank of disciples, but, always hearing the same things and about the same things, you are disposed as if you heard nothing; and if anyone questions you, no one will be able to answer, except a very few who are easily counted. And this is no small loss. For often, when the teacher wishes to go further and touch on more mystical things and loftier discourses, the inattention of the learners does not let him. For just as with schoolmasters, if the child, always hearing the letters, does not master them, the master will always have to din the same things into the child, and will not stop teaching until he can learn them exactly (for it is great folly, without having implanted the first things well, to lead him on to others), so too in the church: if, though we always say the same things, you learn nothing more, we shall never stop saying the same things. For if our discourse were for display and ambition, we ought always to leap and pass on, caring nothing for your sake but only for your applause; but since we have not set our zeal on this, but all our toil is for your benefit, we shall not stop discoursing to you about the same things until you achieve them. For it would have been possible to say much about the Greek superstition, and about the Manichees, and about the Marcionites, and to strike them hard by the grace of God; but the discourse has no fitting time. For to those who do not yet know their own things exactly, to those who have not yet learned that covetousness is evil, who would speak such discourses, and lead them on to other things before the time? We, then, will not stop saying the same things, whether you are persuaded or not; but we fear lest by continually saying the same things, if you do not listen, we make the condemnation greater for those who disobey. But I must not say these things to all; for I know many who are benefited by their coming here, who might justly cry out against those others as laying a snare for them by their own ignorance and inattention. Yet not even so will they be ensnared; for to hear the same things continually is useful even to those who know them. For what we know, when we hear it often … that humility [is good], and that Christ discoursed about it often; but when we hear the very words and the reflections on them, we are affected more, even if we hear them ten thousand times. It is fitting, then, for us too to say to you now, “Therefore, leaving the word of the beginning of Christ, let us press on to maturity.” And what the beginning of the word is, he himself explains next, saying, “not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, of the teaching of baptisms and of laying on of hands, of the resurrection of the dead and of eternal judgment.” If this is the beginning, what other is our doctrine than to repent from dead works, and through the Spirit to receive faith in the resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment? And what is “beginning”? He calls this nothing else than the beginning, when an exact life is not present. For just as one entering on the learning of letters must first hear the elements, so too the Christian must first know these things exactly and doubt nothing about them. But if he should need teaching again, he does not yet have the foundation; for one who is founded ought to be fixed and stand, and not be moved. But if someone, having been instructed and baptized, is after ten years to hear again about faith, and that one must believe in the resurrection of the dead, he does not yet have the foundation; he is again seeking the beginning of Christianity. For that faith is the foundation, and the rest the building, hear him saying, “I have laid a foundation, and another builds on it. If anyone builds on this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw.” That is why he said, “not again [laying a foundation of repentance from dead] works.”

And what is, “let us press on to maturity”? Let us go on now to the roof itself, he says; that is, let us have the best life. For just as among the letters alpha holds everything together, and the foundation the whole building, so too full assurance about the faith holds together purity of life. And without this it is not possible to be a Christian, just as there is no building without foundations, nor being skilled in letters without the elements. But just as, if someone is always busy with the elements, or keeps turning about the foundation and does not go up to the building, he will never have anything more, so it is with us too; for if we always stay at the beginning of faith, we shall never go up to its perfection. But do not think that faith is lessened by being called an element; for it is the whole power. For when he says, “For everyone who partakes of milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is an infant,” he does not call this milk; but still to doubt about these things, this belongs to a weak mind needing many words. For these doctrines are the sound ones; for we call that man mature who, along with faith, has a right life. But if someone has faith but does evil, and doubts about this very faith, and insults the teaching, we shall rightly call him an infant, having run back to the beginning. So even if we have been ten thousand years in the faith and are not firm in it, we are infants, when we display a life not agreeing with it, when we are still laying a foundation. And with life he calls them to something else too, as people who had been shaken and needed to lay a foundation of repentance from dead works. For one who passes from one thing to another, leaving the one and choosing this, must first condemn the former and withdraw from it in his disposition, and then come to the other; but if he is to hold to the former again, how will he lay hold of the second? “What then,” one says, “about the law? We condemned it, and we run back to it again.” This is not a change; for here too we have law. “Do we then nullify the law through faith?” he says. “God forbid; rather we establish the law.” But I spoke of evil things. For he who is to pass over to virtue must first condemn vice, and then pursue virtue. For repentance was not able to show them clean; that is why they were baptized at once, so that what they could not accomplish by themselves might come about through the grace of Christ. So neither is repentance sufficient for cleansing, but one must receive baptism. At any rate one must come to baptism having first condemned one’s sins and given sentence against them. And what is “the teaching of baptisms”? Not as though there were many baptisms, but one. Why then did he say it in the plural? Because he had said, “not laying again a foundation of repentance.” For if he had baptized them again, and instructed them again from the beginning, and, having been baptized again from the beginning, they were taught what should be done and what should not, they would remain uncorrected forever. “And of laying on of hands.” For so they received the Spirit: “For when Paul laid his hands on them,” it says, … the dead. For this happens in baptism, and is confirmed in the confession. “And of eternal judgment.” Why does he say these things? Since it was likely that they, having already believed, were either being shaken or living badly and carelessly. He says, then, “Be sober.” Leading them away from such carelessness, then, and making them more attentive, he takes up this argument. For one cannot say, “If we live carelessly now, we shall be baptized again, we shall be instructed again, and we shall receive the Spirit again,” or that “if we fall from the faith now, we shall be able, by being baptized again, to wash away our sins and obtain the same things as before.” You are mistaken, he says, thinking this. “For it is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have become partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, and have fallen away, to renew them again to repentance, since they crucify for themselves the Son of God …” And he begins in the language of prohibition: “impossible,” he says; that is, no longer expect what is not possible. For he did not say, “It is not fitting,” nor “It is not expedient,” nor “It is not permitted,” but “impossible,” so as to cast into despair, if at all.

3. Then he adds, “and have tasted the heavenly gift,” that is, the forgiveness. “And have become partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God.” Here he means the teaching. “And the powers of the age to come.” What powers do you mean? Either the working of miracles, or the pledge of the … “to … to repentance, since they crucify for themselves the Son of God and put him to open shame.” “To renew,” he says, “to repentance,” that is, through repentance. What then? Has repentance been cast out? Not repentance, God forbid, but renewal again through the washing. For he did not say, “It is impossible to be renewed to repentance,” and fall silent; but having said “impossible” … that is, to become new; for to make men new belongs to the washing alone: “Your youth,” it says, “will be renewed like the eagle’s.” But it belongs to repentance, when men who were made new have then grown old through sins, to free them from the oldness and make them new; yet to bring them to that brightness is not possible; for there the whole was grace. “Since they crucify for themselves,” he says, “the Son of God and put him to open shame.” What he says is this: baptism is a cross: “For our old man was crucified with him”; and again, “We have become conformed to the likeness of his death”; and again, “We were buried, then, with him through baptism into death.” Just as, then, it is not possible for Christ to be crucified a second time (for this is to put him to open shame), so neither is it possible to be baptized [a second time]. For if “death no longer has dominion over him,” if he rose, having become stronger than death by the resurrection, if through death he wrestled death down, and then he is crucified again, all those things are a fable and a mockery. He, then, who baptizes himself a second time crucifies him again. And what … For just as Christ died on the cross, so we in baptism, not in the flesh, but to sin. See death and death: he died in the flesh, we to sin. Through baptism our old man was buried, and the new one rose, conformed to the likeness of his death. If, then, there must be a second baptism, this one must die again; for baptism is nothing else than the slaying of the one baptized, and the raising of the other. And he rightly said, “crucify for themselves”; for one who does this, as though he had forgotten the former grace and managed his life carelessly, does everything as if there were another baptism. That is why one must give heed … “and of the heavenly [gift]?” That is, of the forgiveness of sins; for this belongs to God alone to bestow, and the grace is grace once for all. “What then? Shall we continue in sin, so that grace may abound? God forbid.” But if we are always to be saved by grace, we shall never be good. For when there is one grace, and even so we are careless, if we knew that it was possible to wash away our sins again, would we ever stop sinning? I do not think so. Here he shows the gifts to be many; and that you may learn this, hear: you were counted worthy, he says, of so great a forgiveness, you who sat in darkness, the enemy, the one hostile; such a man, then, suddenly enlightened, counted worthy of the Spirit, of the heavenly gift, of adoption, of the kingdom of heaven, of the other good things, of unspeakable mysteries, of so great a forgiveness; for he who was in darkness … and not even so becoming better, but, though worthy of destruction, having obtained salvation and honor as one who had achieved great things, how could he be baptized again? In two ways, then, he said the thing is impossible, and he put the stronger one last: in one, that he who has been counted worthy of such things and has betrayed all that was given him is not worthy to be renewed again; in the second, that it is not possible for him to be crucified again; for this is to put him to open shame. There is not, then, a second washing, there is not; and if there is, there is a third too, and a fourth, and the first is always undone by the later, and this again by another, and so on without end. And having said, “and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come,” he does not reveal it, but hints at it, and all but says this: that to live as the angels, to need nothing of the things here, to know that adoption becomes for us the means of enjoying the ages to come, to expect to enter that inner sanctuary, these things it is possible to learn through the Spirit. What is “the powers of the age to come”? Either eternal life or the angelic way of life. Of these we have already received the pledge through faith from the Spirit. Tell me, then: if you had been brought into a palace and entrusted with everything there, and then betrayed everything, would you be entrusted again with the things there?

What then? Is there no repentance, one says? There is repentance, but there is not a second baptism. And repentance has great strength, and is able, if one wishes, to free from the burden of sins even one who is utterly drowned in sins, and to set the one in danger in safety, even if he has come to the very bottom of wickedness. And this it is possible to show from many places. “Does not he who falls,” it says, “rise again? Or does not he who turns away turn back?” It is possible, if we wish, for Christ to be formed in us again; for hear Paul saying, “My little children, with whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you.” Only let us lay hold of repentance. For see God’s loving-kindness: we ought to have been punished in every way at the beginning, because, [having received the law and] good things, we both ignored the Master and lived an impure life; yet he not only did not punish, but gave us countless good things, as though we had achieved great things. Again we fell away, and not even so does he punish, but he has given the remedy of repentance, able to blot out and wipe away all our sins, if only we know what the remedy is and how it must be applied. What then is the remedy of repentance, and how is it prepared? First, from the condemnation of one’s own sins, and from confession. “For I acknowledged my iniquity,” it says, “and I did not hide my sin”; and, “I will confess my iniquity against myself to the Lord, and you forgave the ungodliness of my heart”; and again, “Tell your sins first, that you may be justified”; and, “The righteous man is his own accuser at the beginning of his speech.” Second, from great humility; for it is like a golden chain: if it gets a beginning, all follows. For if you confess your sin as one ought to confess, the soul is humbled; for conscience, turning upon it, makes it shrink. And other things must be added to humility, so that it may be such as the blessed David sought, saying, “Create in me a clean heart, O God”; and again, “A broken and humbled heart God will not despise.” For what is broken does not rise up, does not strike, but is ready to suffer ill, and itself does not rise up. Such is contrition of heart: even if it is insulted, even if it suffers ill, it keeps quiet and does not rush to revenge. And after humility there is need of earnest prayers, of many tears, by day, by night: “I will wash my bed every night,” it says, “and drench my couch with my tears; I am weary with my groaning”; and again, “For I have eaten ashes like bread, and mingled my drink with weeping.” And after prayer so earnest, there is need of much almsgiving; for this is what above all makes the remedy of repentance strong. And just as among physicians’ remedies there is a remedy that takes many herbs, but one that is most important, so too in repentance this is the more important herb, and it may become the whole. For hear what the divine Scripture says: “Give alms, and all things will be clean”; and again, “By almsgiving and faithfulness sins are purged away”; and again, “Water will quench a blazing fire, and [almsgiving] will make an end of great sins.” Then, not to be angry, nor to bear grudges, to forgive all their sins: “Man cherishes anger against man,” it says, “and seeks healing from the Lord?” “Forgive, so that you may be forgiven.” And to turn brothers back from error: “Go,” it says, “and turn back your brothers, so that your sins may be forgiven you.” To be on good terms with the priests: “For even if he has committed sins,” it says, “they will be forgiven him.” To stand up for those who are wronged, not to be angry, to bear all things gently. If, then, before learning that it is possible to wash away sins through repentance, you were not in anguish, knowing that there is no other washing, and you despaired of yourselves, now that you have learned by how many means repentance and forgiveness are achieved, and that we shall be able to escape everything if we will use it as we should, what pardon would we obtain if we did not even call our sins to mind? For if this were done, all would be accomplished. For just as he who has gone in at the door is inside, so is he who reckons up his own evils. For if he reckons them up every day, he will certainly come to their cure too; but if he says, “I am a sinner,” but does not reckon them up one by one and say, “I committed this sin and that,” he will never stop, always confessing but never caring about amendment. For if he begins, all the rest follows, if he shows an entrance; for everywhere the beginning and the opening … Let us begin, then, I beg you, one by intensifying his prayers, another by weeping continually, another by being downcast; for not even this, small as it is, is without profit: “I saw,” it says, “that he was grieved, and went about gloomy, and I healed his ways.” And let all of us, by almsgiving, by forgiving our neighbors their sins, by not bearing grudges nor taking revenge, humble our souls. If we continually call to mind the sins we have committed, nothing outward will be able to lift us up, not wealth, not power, not office, not honor; but even if … bitter. For the blessed David too was a king, and said, “I will wash my bed every night”; and [was lifted up] in nothing by the purple and the diadem, [but remembered that he was] a man; and since he had a broken heart, he lamented. For what are human things? Ash and dust, and like chaff before the face of the wind; smoke and shadow, a leaf carried about and a flower, a dream and a tale and a fable, wind and slack air simply flowing away, a feather that does not stand still, a stream running past, and anything more worthless than these. For what, tell me, do you think great? What rank do you consider great? That of consul? For most people think there is no rank greater than this. Yet, compared with one who has been in such splendor, who has been greatly admired, the man who is not consul has nothing less; this one and that are in the same rank; both alike in a little while are no more. When was he made one, for how long a time, tell me? Two days? This happens in dreams too. “But that,” one says, “is a dream.” And what of it? Is what happens by day not a dream? Tell me, why do we not rather call these things a dream? For just as dreams, when day overtakes them, are proved to be nothing, so these things too, when night overtakes them, are proved to be nothing; for night and day have received equal shares of time, and have divided all time equally between them. Just as, then, one does not rejoice by day in what happened by night, so neither is it possible by night to enjoy what was by day. Have you been consul? So have I. But you by day, I by night. And what of it? Not even so do you have anything more than I, unless perhaps being called “So-and-so the consul,” and having the pleasure of the words, makes you have more. For example (for I will say it more clearly), if I say, “So-and-so is consul,” and grant you the word, was it not said and gone at once? So too are the things themselves: as soon as he appeared as consul, he is no more. But let us suppose it is a year, and two years, and three, and four; where then are those who have been consul ten times? Nowhere. But Paul is not so; for he was glorious throughout while living, not one day, nor two, nor ten, not twenty, not thirty, nor for ten years and twenty and thirty; but since he died, the four hundredth year has now passed, and still even now he is more glorious, and much more glorious than when he lived. And these things are on earth; but the glory of the saints in heaven, what speech will set it forth? So, I beg you, let us seek this glory, let us pursue this, so that we may obtain it; for this is truly glory. Let us withdraw at last from the things of this life, so that we may find grace and mercy in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor and worship, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“For land that drinks the rain that often comes upon it, and produces vegetation useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God; but if it bears thorns and thistles, it is worthless and near to being cursed, and its end is to be burned.” Let us hear the oracles of God with fear, with fear and much trembling; for “Serve the Lord,” it says, “with fear, and rejoice in him with trembling.” And if even our joy and our gladness ought to be with trembling, when what is said is also fearful, such as the present words, what punishment do we not deserve if we do not listen to what is said with shuddering? Having said that it is impossible for those who have fallen away to be baptized a second time and to receive again the forgiveness that comes through the washing, and having shown the fearfulness of the thing, he adds, “For land that drinks the rain that often comes upon it, and produces vegetation useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God; but if it bears thorns and thistles, it is worthless and near to being cursed, and its end is to be burned.” Let us fear, then, beloved. This threat is not Paul’s; the words are not a man’s; they are the Holy Spirit’s, of Christ speaking in him. Who, then, is clean of these thorns? And even if we were clean, not even so ought we to be confident, but to fear and tremble lest thorns sprout in us; but when we are wholly thorns and thistles, from where do we take confidence, tell me, and become careless? What makes … [one who thinks he] stands not fall? “For let him who thinks he stands,” it says, “take heed lest he fall.” How ought one who has fallen to be anxious so as to rise? If Paul fears that, having preached to others, he himself may become disqualified, and fears becoming disqualified, he who was so approved, what defense and what pardon shall we have who have already become disqualified, having no fear, but fulfilling our Christianity as a habit, and discharging it as a formality? … “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven”; let us fear; for it is revealed not against ungodliness only, but also against all unrighteousness, both small and great. Here he hints at God’s loving-kindness. By “rain” he means the teaching; and what he said above, “though by this time you ought to be teachers,” this he says here too. And in many places Scripture calls the teaching rain: “For I will command the clouds,” it says, “not to rain rain upon it,” speaking of the vineyard; which elsewhere it calls a famine of bread and a thirst for water. And again, “The river of God is filled with water.” “For land that drinks,” he says, “the rain that often comes upon it.” Here he makes plain that they both received and drank in the word, and obtained it often, and not even so profited. For if you had not been cultivated, he says, if you had not enjoyed rains, the evil would not be so great: “For if I had not come,” he says, “and spoken to them, they would not have sin”; but if you drank often and received, why did you bring forth other things instead of fruits? “For I waited,” it says, “for it to produce grapes, but it produced thorns.” Do you see that everywhere Scripture calls sins thorns? For David too says, “I was turned to misery while a thorn was fixed in me.” For it does not simply come upon one, but is fixed in; and even if a little of it remains and we do not take it all out, the little itself pains just the same, as with a thorn. And why do I speak of the little? Even after it has been taken out, it leaves the pain of the wound for a long time; and for this reason there is need of much care and treatment, so as to be wholly freed from it. For it is not enough only to take out the sin; the wounded place must also be cared for. But I fear that the saying is addressed to us rather than to others: “land that drinks the rain that often comes upon it.” For we are always drinking, always hearing, but at once, when the sun rises, we lose the moisture, and for this reason we bear thorns. What then are the thorns? Let us hear Christ saying that “the care of this age and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful.” “For land that drinks,” he says, “the rain that often comes upon it, and produces vegetation useful.”

2. Nothing is so useful as purity of life, nothing so well ordered as the best life, nothing so useful as virtue. “And produces,” he says, “vegetation useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God.” Here he says that God becomes the cause of all things, quietly striking at the Greeks, who ascribe the birth of fruits to the power of the earth. For it is not the farmers’ hands, he says, that rouse the earth to the bearing of fruits, but the command from God; that is why he says, “receives a blessing from God.” And see how in the case of the thorns he did not say “producing thorns,” nor did he use this word of good things, but what? “Bearing thorns,” as one might say, casting them up, throwing them out. “Worthless,” he says, “and near to being cursed.” Oh, how much consolation the word has! For he said “near to being cursed,” not “a curse”; and one who has not yet fallen into the curse, but has come near it, will be able also to come to be far from it. And he consoled them not by this alone, but also by what follows. For he did not say, “worthless and near to being cursed, which will be burned,” but what? “Its end is to be burned,” showing that if it remains so to the end, it will suffer this. So if we cut out and burn up the thorns, we shall be able to enjoy countless good things, and become approved, and share in blessing. And he rightly called sin a thistle, saying, “but if it bears thorns and thistles”; for wherever you take hold of it, it strikes and bites, and it is ugly even to look at. Having, then, taken hold of them sufficiently, and frightened and struck them, he heals again, so as not to cast them down further and make them careless; for one who strikes the sluggish makes him more sluggish. He neither flatters wholly, so as not to puff them up, nor strikes wholly, so as not to make them more careless; but putting in a little of what strikes, he applies much of what heals by what follows, so as to achieve what he wishes. For what does he say? “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, beloved, and things belonging to salvation, even though we speak thus.” That is, we say these things not as having condemned you, nor as thinking you full of thorns, but fearing lest this happen; for it is better to frighten you with words, so that you may not suffer pain from deeds. And this belongs especially to Paul’s wisdom. And he did not say, “We think,” nor “We conjecture,” nor “We expect,” nor “We hope,” but what? “We are persuaded.” Which he said too writing to the Galatians: “I am confident about you in the Lord that you will think nothing else.” He did not say “you think,” but “you will think.” For there, since they were very much at fault and he could not praise them from the present, he does it from the future, saying, “you will think nothing else”; but here from the present: “But we are persuaded of better things concerning you, beloved, and things belonging to salvation, even though we speak thus.” And since he could not say so much from the present, he builds the consolation from the past, and says, “For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the labor of love which you showed toward his name, in having served the saints and in serving them.” Oh, how he restored and strengthened their soul by reminding them of former deeds, and put them under necessity not to expect that God had forgotten! For one who is not fully assured of God’s just judgment, and of his repayment to each according to the worth of his life, must sin and say that God is unjust. So he compelled them by all means to expect those things to come. For one who has despaired and given up because of present things, one will be able to strengthen from the things to come; as he himself too said writing to the Galatians, “You were running well; who hindered you?” and again, “Did you suffer so many things in vain, if indeed it was in vain?” And just as here he sets the praise with rebuke, saying, “though by this time you ought to be teachers,” so there too: “I am astonished” … praise; for we are astonished about great people when they fall away. Do you see the praise hidden in the accusation and the charge? And he says this not about himself only, but about all; for he did not say, “I am persuaded,” but “We are persuaded of better things concerning you,” that is, good things. He says these things either about their way of life or about the recompense. Then, having said above, “worthless and near to being cursed,” and that it will be for burning, so that he may not seem to say this about them, he at once added, “For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the labor of love,” showing that even if we speak thus, we do not altogether say this about you. And if you do not say it about us, why do you attack us, calling us sluggish, and … “We desire,” he says, “each one of you to show the same earnestness for the full assurance of hope to the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit [the promises].”

“We desire,” he says; so we wish this not only as far as words. But what do you desire, tell me? We desire you to hold fast to virtue; not as condemning the former things, he says, but fearing for the things to come. And he did not say, “Not as condemning the former things, but the present ones; for you have grown faint, you have become more careless.” But see how gently he showed it, and did not strike. For what does he say? “But we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to the end.” For this is the wonderful thing in Paul’s wisdom, that he does not show that they have given way, that they have slackened. For to say, “We desire each one of you,” is, as one might say, “I wish you to be always earnest, and to be now and in the future such as you were before.” For this made the reproof gentler and easier to accept. And he did not say, “I wish,” which belonged to a teacher’s authority, but what belonged to a father’s affection and is more than wishing, “We desire” … “For we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness for the full assurance of your hope to the end.” What is this? Hope, he says, sustains; it restores again; do not grow faint, do not despair, so that your hope may not be in vain; for he who does good things also hopes for good things, and never despairs of himself. “So that you may not become sluggish,” [but may remain] at your height. And yet above he said, “since you have become dull of hearing.” But see how there he limited the sluggishness to hearing; here, though he utters this same word, he hints at something else; for instead of saying, “Do not remain in carelessness,” he said, “Do not become sluggish.” Again he leads them out to the future time, which is free from blame, saying, “so that you may not become more sluggish”; for while that time is not yet present, we would not be answerable. For one who is exhorted to be earnest about the present, as being careless, will perhaps become more reluctant too; but one exhorted about the future, not so. “But we desire,” he says, “each one of you.” Great is the affection: he cares for great and small alike, and knows all, and overlooks no one, but shows the same care for each and equal honor toward all; for which reason he persuaded them the more to accept the heaviness of his words. “So that you may not become sluggish,” he says. For just as idleness harms the body, so too idleness in good things makes the soul more careless and weak. “But imitators,” he says, “of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.” And who these are he says next. “[For when God made a] promise …” Then, so that they might not say, “What [promises]?”, he leads them up to the patriarch, bringing them examples of achievements from home, but of thinking themselves forsaken, from the patriarch. And he does this so that they might not say that they had been forsaken as men of no account, despised, but might know that this belongs to the noblest men above all, to travel through life by trials, and that God has dealt so with wonderful and great men. One must bear everything, he says, with patience; for this too is to believe. For if he says that he gives, and you receive at once, why did you even believe? For this is no longer of your faith, but of me, he says, who anticipated the promise and gave. But if I say that I give, and I give after a hundred years, and you do not despair, then you have thought me trustworthy, then you have the right opinion about me. Do you see that unbelief often comes not only from hopelessness, but also from losing heart and not being patient, not from the one who promised? “For God is not unjust,” he says, “so as to forget your love and the earnestness which you showed toward his name, in having served the saints and in serving them.” He bears witness to great things about them: not works only, but works done with eagerness; which he says elsewhere too: “And not only this, but they gave themselves to the Lord and to us.” “Which you showed,” he says, “toward his name, in having served the saints and in serving them.” See how he again treats them by adding and saying, “in serving them”? Even now, he says, you are serving them; rousing them and showing that they did it not to those men but to God. “Which you showed,” he says; not simply toward the saints, but toward God; for this is “toward his name”; as if he said, You have done everything for his name’s sake. He, then, who has enjoyed so much earnestness and love from you will never despise you.

Hearing these things, I beg you, let us serve the saints. For every believer is a saint, inasmuch as he is a believer; even if someone is a man of the world, he is a saint: “For the unbelieving husband,” it says, “is sanctified in the wife, and the unbelieving wife in the husband.” See how faith makes sanctification. Even if, then, we see a man of the world in distress, let us stretch out our hand; let us not be earnest only toward those who sit in the mountains. For those are saints both by life and by faith, and these too are saints by faith, and many by life too. Let us not, if we see a monk in prison, go in, and if a man of the world, not go in; this man too is a saint, and a brother. “What then,” one says, “if he is impure and polluted?” Hear Christ saying, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” Do it for God’s sake. And what am I saying? Even if we see a Greek in distress, we must do good, and simply to every man who is in distress, and much more to a believer who is a man of the world. Hear Paul saying, “Do good to all, and especially to those of the household of faith.” But I do not know from where this has been brought in, and from where this custom has prevailed. For he who seeks out only the monks, and wishes to do good to them only, and inquires curiously into these too, saying, “If he is not worthy, if he is not righteous, if he does not work signs, I do not stretch out my hand,” has taken away the greater part of almsgiving, and in time will do away even with this very part. And yet that is almsgiving which is done to sinners, to those who are guilty. For this is almsgiving: to have mercy not on those who have done right, but on those who have done wrong. And that you may learn this, hear what Christ says through the parable: “A certain man was going down,” it says, “from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers; and having beaten him, they left him by the road half dead. And by chance a Levite came along the road, and seeing him, passed by on the other side; and likewise a priest too did the same and ran past. But afterwards a Samaritan came, and took great care of him. For he bound up his wounds, poured on oil, set him on his donkey, brought him to the inn, and said to the innkeeper, Take care of him.” And see his great munificence: “And I will repay you,” he says, “whatever you spend.” Then he asks, “Which, then, do you think became a neighbor to him?” And the lawyer, having said, “The one who showed mercy on him,” hears, “Go, then, and do likewise.” And see what kind of parable he spoke. He did not say that a Jew did good to a Samaritan, but that a Samaritan showed all that munificence. From this we learn to provide equally for all, not caring only for those of the household of faith and neglecting the strangers. So you too, if you see someone suffering ill, inquire into nothing further; his suffering ill gives him the right to help. For if you see a donkey choking, you raise it up and do not inquire whose it is; much more must one not inquire whose a man is. He is God’s, whether he is a Greek or a Jew. For even if he is an unbeliever, still he needs help. For if it had been entrusted to you to examine and judge, you would rightly say these things; but now the misfortune does not allow you to examine. For if one ought not to inquire curiously into those who are in health, nor busy oneself with others’ affairs, much more those who are suffering ill. And besides, what? Did you see him prospering or in good repute, that you say he is wicked and worthless? He is suffering ill; and if you see one suffering ill, do not say that he is wicked. For when he is in good repute, we rightly say these things; but when he is in misfortune and needs help, one should not say that he is wicked; for this belongs to cruelty and inhumanity and arrogance. What was more lawless than the Jews, tell me? But nevertheless, God punished them, and very justly; and nevertheless he accepted those who grieved with them, and punished those who rejoiced over them. “For they did not suffer at all,” it says, “at the breaking of Joseph.” And again, “Rescue those who are led away to death; do not spare.” He did not say, “Inquire, and learn who he is”; and yet for the most part those led away are wicked; but he said simply, “Rescue him, whoever he may be.” For this above all is almsgiving. For he who does good to a friend does not altogether do it for God’s sake; but he who does good to one unknown, he does it purely for God’s sake. And he says, “Do not spare money, but even if you must empty out everything, give”; but we, seeing people choking, lamenting, suffering things harder than countless deaths, and often unjustly, spare our money and do not spare our brothers; we care for lifeless things, but neglect a soul. And yet Paul commands us to instruct opponents with gentleness: “in case,” he says, “God may grant them repentance leading to knowledge of the truth, and they may be taken captive by him to do his will.” “In case,” he says: do you see with how much patience the word is full? Imitating him, let us too despair of no one. For fishermen too, having often cast the hook into the sea, caught nothing, but afterwards, casting it, took the whole. So we too do not despair, but expect that you will suddenly show us ripe fruit. For the farmer too, when he sows, waits the first day and the second, and waits a long time; then suddenly he sees the fruits sprouting on every side. This we expect will happen with you too, 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.

“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.

“For this Melchizedek, king of Salem, priest of God Most High, who met Abraham returning from the slaughter of the kings and blessed him, to whom also Abraham apportioned a tenth of all, being first, by interpretation, king of righteousness, and then also king of Salem, that is, king of peace, without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like the Son of God, remains a priest forever.” Wishing to show the difference between the New and the Old, Paul scatters it in many places, and skirmishes … and tests the ears of the hearers and trains them beforehand. For right from the opening he laid this down, saying that to them he spoke by the prophets, but to us by a Son; and to them in many parts and in many ways, but to us through the Son. Then, having discoursed about the Son, who he is and what he has done, and having exhorted them to obey him, so that we might not suffer the same things as the Jews, and having said that he is high priest according to Melchizedek, and having often wished to enter on this difference, and having prepared much beforehand, and having rebuked them as weak, and having again treated them and restored them to confidence, he then brings in the discourse about the difference, when their ears were at their height; for one who has fallen back would not easily listen. And that you may learn this, hear Scripture saying, “And they did not listen to Moses because of their faintheartedness.” For this reason, having first emptied out their despondency by many things, both fearful and kinder, he then comes down to the discourse about the difference. And what does he say? “For this Melchizedek, king of Salem, priest of God Most High.” And the wonderful thing is that in the type he shows the difference to be great. For, as I said, he always confirms the truth from the type, the present from the past, because of the weakness of the hearers. “For this Melchizedek,” he says, “king of Salem, priest of God Most High, who met [Abraham returning from the slaughter of the kings] and blessed him, to whom also Abraham apportioned a tenth of all.” Having set down the whole narrative briefly, he considered it mystically, and first from the name: “being first,” he says, “by interpretation king of righteousness.” Rightly; for sedek means righteousness, and melchi king; so Melchizedek is king of righteousness. Do you see the exactness even in the names? And who is king of righteousness, but our Lord Jesus Christ? “And then also king of Salem,” from the city, that is, king of peace; for so Salem is interpreted. Which again belongs to Christ; for he made us righteous, and made peace between the things in heaven and the things on earth. What man is king of righteousness and of peace? No other, but only our Lord Jesus Christ. Then he adds another difference too: “[without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither] beginning of days nor end of life, but made like the Son of God, remains a priest forever.” Since, then, the saying, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek,” was objected against him, while that man had died and did not become a priest forever, see how he has considered it. For so that no one might object, saying, “And who would say this of a man?”, I do not say it of the reality, he says; that is, we do not know who his father was, or who his mother, nor when he received his beginning, nor when he died. “And what of that?” one says. “Because we do not know, did he not die, or did he not have parents?” You say well: he both died and had parents. How then “without father, without mother”? How “having neither beginning of days nor end of life”? How? By not being mentioned in Scripture. And what of this? That, just as this man is “without father” by not having his genealogy given, so Christ is by the very nature of the thing.

See the being without beginning, see the being without end. Just as of this man we do not know either the beginning of days or the end of life, because it is not written, so we do not know them of Jesus either, not because it is not written, but because they do not exist. For that is a type, and therefore it is from not being written; but this is the truth, and therefore it is from not existing. For just as in the names too (for here they were titles, “king of righteousness” and “of peace,” but there the truth of the realities), so here too they are titles, but there the truth of the realities. How then does he have a beginning? You see that the Son is without beginning, not in the sense of having no cause (for this is impossible, since he has a Father; otherwise how is he a Son?), but in the sense of having no beginning of life nor end. “But made like,” he says, “the Son of God.” And where is the likeness? That of both this one and that one we do not know the end and the beginning; but of this one because it is not written, of that one because they do not exist. Here is the likeness. But if the likeness were to be in every respect, there would no longer be a type and a truth, but both would be type. So too one may see it happen in shaded drawings; for in them there is something like and something unlike; for through the mere outline there is some likeness of the features, but when the colors are laid on, then the difference appears plainly, both the like and the unlike. “But consider,” he says, “how great this man was, to whom even Abraham the patriarch gave a tenth of the spoils.” So far he has fitted the type. Now with confidence he shows him [better] than the realities among the Jews. And if the one who bore the type of Christ is so much better, not than the priests only, but even than the forefather of the priests, what could one say of the truth? Do you see with what abundance he shows the superiority? “But consider,” he says, “how great this man was, to whom even Abraham the patriarch gave a tenth of the spoils.” The spoils are called ἀκροθίνια. And one cannot say that he gave as to one who had shared in the war; for that is why [it says, “returning from the slaughter of] the kings,” showing that he sat at home, and that he gave him the firstfruits of what he had toiled for. “And those of the sons of Levi who receive the priestly office have a commandment to take tithes from the people according to the law, that is, from their brothers, though [these also have come out of the loins of Abraham].” So great, he says, is the excellence of the priesthood, that those who are equal in honor by ancestry and have the same forefather are much better than the others. At any rate they receive tithes from them. When, then, someone is found receiving tithes from these very men, are not these in the rank of laymen, and he among the priests? And not only this, but he was not even of equal honor with them, but of another race. So he would not have given tithes to a foreigner unless the honor had been great. Oh, what has he accomplished! Something greater than what he made plain in the Epistle to the Romans when he treated of faith. For there he says that Abraham is the forefather of both our polity and the Jewish one; but here he is very bold against him, and shows the uncircumcised man to be much better. How then did he show it? That Levi gave tithes? Abraham gave them, he says. And what is this to us? To you most of all; for you will surely not contend that the Levites are better than Abraham. “But he whose genealogy is not counted from them has received tithes from Abraham.” Then he did not simply pass by, but added, “and has blessed him who had the promises,” in which the Jews took pride. He shows that one more venerable than him, and from the common judgment of all: “[Without any dispute the lesser is blessed] by the better.” That is, all agree that the lesser is blessed by the better. So the type of Christ is better even than the one who had the promises. “And here men who die receive tithes, but there one of whom it is testified that he lives.” But so that they might not say, “Why do you go up so far? What has it to do with our priests if Abraham gave a tithe? Tell us what concerns us,” he adds and says, “And, so to speak …” not saying it openly, so as not to wound them. “Through Abraham even Levi, who receives tithes, has paid tithes.” How? “For he was still in the loins of his father when Melchizedek met him.” That is, Levi was in him, and though not yet born, gave the tithe through him. See, he did not say “the Levites” but “Levi,” drawing even from this the greater thing, as he wished, to excess. Have you seen how great the difference is between Abraham and Melchizedek, who bore the type of our high priest? And he shows the superiority to have come about by authority, not by necessity. For the one gave the tithe, which marks the other as priest; the other blessed, which marks the better. This superiority passes on to the descendants too. Wonderfully and triumphantly he threw out the Jewish things. That is why he said, “You have become dull,” since he wished to lay these things down beforehand … so that they might not leap away. For such is Paul’s wisdom: preparing first, so he brings in what he wishes. For the human race is hard to persuade and needs much care, more than plants. For there it is the nature of bodies and of earth, yielding to the farmers’ hands; but here it is the will, which admits many changes and chooses now this, now that; for it is quick to run toward vice.

3. That is why we must always guard ourselves, lest we fall asleep. “For see,” it says, “he who keeps Israel will not slumber nor sleep”; and, “Do not give your foot to be moved.” He did not say, “Do not be moved,” but “Do not give.” So the giving is in our power, and not in another’s. For if we will stand firm and unmoved, we shall not be shaken; by speaking so he hinted at this. What then? Is nothing in God’s power? All things are in God’s power, but not so that our free will is harmed. “If, then, it is in God’s power,” one says, “why does he blame us?” For this reason I said, not so that our free will is harmed. It is, then, in our power and in his; for we must first choose the good things, and when we have chosen, then he too brings in his own part. He does not anticipate our wills, so that he may not damage our free will; but when we have chosen, then he brings in great help to us. How then, if it is in our power, does Paul say, “It is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy”? First, he did not bring it in as his own opinion, but drew it as a conclusion from what lay before him and was put forward. For having said, “It is written, I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion,” he added, “So then it is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.” “You will say to me then, Why does he still find fault?” Second, one may say this: that he says the whole is his whose is the greater part. For ours is the choosing and willing, but God’s the accomplishing and bringing to completion. Since, then, the greater part is his, he says the whole is his, saying this according to human custom. For so we too do. I mean, for example: we see a house well built, and we say, “The whole is the architect’s”; and yet the whole is not his, but also the workmen’s, and the owner’s who provided the material, and many others’; but nevertheless, since he contributed the greater part, we say the whole is his. So too here. And again in the case of a crowd: where there are many, we say “all”; where few, “no one.” So too Paul says here, “It is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.” And in saying this he achieves two very great things: one, that we should not be lifted up by our achievements; second, that those who achieve should ascribe the cause of their achievements to God. Even if you run, then, even if you are earnest, he says, do not think the achievement yours; for unless you obtain the help from above, all is in vain. Yet that you will obtain what you are earnest for with the alliance from there is plain; but only if you too run, if you will. So he did not say that we run in vain, but that we run in vain if we think the whole ours, if we do not assign the greater part to God. For God did not wish the whole to be his, so that he might not seem to crown us for nothing; nor again ours, so that we might not fall into folly. For if, having the lesser part, we think highly of ourselves, what if we were masters of the whole? For God has done much to cut out our arrogance. “And his hand is still stretched out,” it says. With how many sufferings has he surrounded us … with how many wild beasts? For when some say, “What is this? To what end is this?”, they say these things against what seems good to God. He has set you in so great fear, and not even so are you humble; but if you ever lay hold of a little prosperity, you reach heaven itself in your pride.

That is why there are very swift changes and reversals, and not even so are we instructed; that is why there are deaths frequent and untimely, yet we think as though immortal, as though never to die; so we seize …; so we build, as though remaining here forever; and neither the word of God sounding in our ears every day, nor the events themselves, instruct us. There is no day, there is no hour to be named, in which one may not see continual funerals; but all is in vain, and nothing reaches through our hardness. Nor can we become better through others’ misfortunes, or rather, we do not even wish to; but when we ourselves alone mourn, then we are humbled; and if God relaxes his hand, we in turn raise our hand again. No one thinks of the things above, no one despises the things on earth, no one looks toward heaven; but just as swine bend downward, stooping toward the belly, and wallowing in the mire, so too the many … do not perceive. For it is better to be defiled with unclean mud than with sins. For he who is defiled from that washes himself in a short time, and becomes like one who never fell into that pool at the beginning; but he who has fallen into the pit of sin has received a defilement not cleansed with water, but needing much time, and exactness, and tears, and beatings of the breast, and lamentation greater and warmer than you show over your dearest. For this filth comes upon us from outside; that is why we quickly put it off; but that is born from within; that is why we are cleansed with difficulty, scarcely washing it off. “For out of the heart,” he says, “come forth [evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications,] thefts, false testimonies.” That is why the prophet said, “Create in me a clean heart, O God”; and another, “Wash your heart from wickedness, O Jerusalem.” Do you see that achieving belongs both to us and to God? And again, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Let us, then, become pure as far as is in our power; let us wipe away our sins. And how is it possible to wipe them away? The prophet teaches, saying, “Wash yourselves, become clean, put away your evils from your souls before my eyes.” What is “before my eyes”? Since some seem to be free from wickedness, but to men, while to God they are plain, being whitewashed tombs; for this reason he says, Put them away so, as I see. “Learn to do good, seek justice, vindicate the humble and the poor; and come, and let us reason together, says the Lord; and if your sins are as purple, I will make them white as snow; and if they are as scarlet, I will make them white as wool.” Do you see that we must first cleanse ourselves, and then God cleanses? For having first said, “Wash yourselves, become clean,” he then added, “I will make white.” Let no one, then, of those who have come to the extreme of wickedness despair of himself; for even if you have come into a habit, he says, and almost into the very nature of wickedness, do not fear. For this reason, taking colors not fading but almost united in substance with what underlies them, he said that they would come to the contrary state. For he did not say simply that he would wash them, but would make them white as snow and as wool, so that he might hold out good hopes to us. Great, then, is the power of repentance, since it makes us as snow and whitens us as wool, even though sin has already dyed our souls. Let us be eager, then, to become pure; he commanded nothing burdensome: “Judge for the orphan,” he says, “and vindicate the widow.” Do you see how everywhere God makes great account of mercy and of the protection of the wronged? Let us pursue these achievements, and we shall be able by the grace of God to obtain the good things to come too; which may we all be counted worthy of, in Christ Jesus our Lord …

“If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood (for on it the people received the law), what further need would there be for another priest to arise according to the order of Melchizedek, and not be called according to the order of Aaron? … For he of whom these things are said belonged to another tribe, from which no one has served at the altar. For it is evident that our Lord has arisen from Judah, a tribe about which Moses said nothing concerning priesthood.” “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood,” he says. Having spoken of Melchizedek, and shown how much better he was than Abraham, and declared the difference great, he now begins from here to show the distance of the covenant itself, and how the one is imperfect and the other perfect. And he does not yet enter on the realities themselves, but for the present fights from the priesthood and the covenant. For these things were more credible to unbelievers when the proof came from what had already been accepted and believed. He showed that Melchizedek was much better than both Levi and Abraham, having been in the rank of priest toward them. And he attempts it again from another thing. What is that? The present priesthood and the Jewish one. And see the excess of his wisdom: from the very thing by which it was likely that he [Christ] would be cast out of the priesthood, since he was not according to the order of Aaron, from this he establishes him and casts those out. And he does this by bringing himself in as though perplexed at something, why he is not said to be according to the order of Aaron, and so resolving the perplexity. I too, he says, am perplexed at this very thing, why he did not come according to the order of Aaron. For this he makes plain by saying, “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood.” And “what further need” has great emphasis. If, then, Christ according to the flesh had come first according to the order of Melchizedek, and afterwards the law and the things according to Aaron had come, one might reasonably say that these, being more perfect, undid those, as coming in afterwards; but if Christ came later and takes another form of priesthood, it is clear that it was because those things were more imperfect. For let us suppose for argument’s sake, he says, that all had been fulfilled and that there was nothing imperfect in the priesthood; why then was it necessary to say “according to the order of Melchizedek,” and not “according to the order of Aaron”? Why, leaving Aaron, did he bring in another priesthood, that of Melchizedek? “If, then, perfection were through the Levitical priesthood,” he says; that is, the perfection of the realities, of the doctrines, of the life, through the Levitical priesthood. And see how he proceeds step by step. He said, “according to the order of Melchizedek,” showing that the priesthood according to the order of Melchizedek is better; for that man was much better. Now he shows this also from the time, that it came after Aaron, clearly as better. And what does what follows mean? “For on it,” he says, “the people received the law.” What is “on it”? They conform to it, he says, they do everything through it; one cannot say that it was given to others. “The people received the law on it,” that is, they use it and used it; one cannot say that it was perfect but did not preside over the people. “On it they received the law,” that is, they used it. What need was there, then, of another priesthood, if it had the perfect? “For when the priesthood is changed, there is of necessity a change of the law also.” But if there must be another priest, or rather another priesthood, there must also be another law. This against those who say, “What need was there of a new covenant?” For he could also have cited a testimony from prophecy: “Not according to the covenant which I made with your fathers”; but for the present he fights from the priesthood. And see how from above he was in labor to say these things. He said, “according to the …”; for he would not have said, “according to the order of Melchizedek,” unless this one were better. If, then, another priesthood has been brought in, there must be another covenant; for it is not possible to be a priest without a covenant and laws and commands, nor, having received another priesthood, to use that one. Then the objection, how he could be a priest who was not a Levite, which he had laid down beforehand in what went before, he does not even deign to resolve, but brings it in in passing. I said, he says, that the priesthood was changed; therefore the covenant too. And it was changed not in manner only, nor in commands, but also in tribe; for it had to be in tribe too. How? “For when the priesthood is changed,” he says. That is, for this reason it was changed from tribe to tribe, from the priestly to the royal, so that the same might be both royal and priestly. And see the mystery: first it was royal, and now it has become priestly; just as also in Christ’s case: for he was always king, but he became priest when he took the flesh, when he offered the sacrifice. Do you see the change? And what was matter of objection, this he brings in as what the sequence of events required: “For he of whom these things are said,” he says, “belonged to another tribe, from which no one has served at the altar. For it is evident that our Lord has arisen from Judah, a tribe about which Moses said nothing concerning priesthood.” What he says is this: I too say and know that this tribe had nothing of priesthood, nor did anyone from it serve as priest; for this is what “no one has served at the altar” shows; but the whole is a change. So it was necessary that the law and the old covenant be changed, since the tribe itself had been exchanged. Do you see how he shows another difference too from the exchange of the tribe? And not only from this is shown how great the difference is, but now also from the person, and from the covenant, and from the manner, and from the type itself. “Who has become [a priest] not according to the law of a fleshly commandment …”

He has become a priest, he says, but not according to the law of a fleshly commandment; for that law was in many things lawless And he rightly called it a fleshly commandment; for everything that it ordained was fleshly. For to say, … What is “of a fleshly commandment”? Wash the flesh, cleanse the flesh, circumcise the flesh, bind up the flesh, nourish the flesh, let the flesh rest; tell me, are not these things fleshly? And if you wish to learn also what good things it promised, hear: long life, it says, for the flesh; milk and honey for the flesh; peace for the flesh; luxury for the flesh. From this law Aaron received the priesthood; but Melchizedek not so. “And it is yet far more evident, if another priest arises according to the likeness of Melchizedek.” What is evident? The distance between the two priesthoods, the difference, how much better is he who has become [a priest] not according to the law of a fleshly commandment. Who? Melchizedek? No, but Christ. “But according to the power of an indestructible life. For it is testified, You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.” That is, not temporary, nor having an end, but “according to the power of an indestructible life.” He said this to show that he became priest through his own power and the Father’s, through a life without end. And yet this does not follow from “who has become not according to the law of a fleshly commandment”; for what followed was to say, “but according to a spiritual one.” But by “fleshly” he showed the temporary, as he says elsewhere too, “ordinances of the flesh imposed until a time of reformation.” “According to the power of a life”: this is, that he lives by his own power. He said that a change of the law takes place, and showed how; he now seeks the cause; which above all gives full assurance to men’s souls, to know the cause by all means, and leads to greater faith. For we believe more when we learn the cause too, and the reason by which a thing comes about. “For there is a setting aside,” he says, “of the former commandment because of its weakness and unprofitableness.” Here the heretics fasten on us, saying, “See, even Paul has called the commandment evil.” But attend closely: he did not say, “because of its evil,” nor “because of its wickedness,” but “because of its weakness and unprofitableness.” And elsewhere too he shows the weakness, as when he says, “in that it was weak through the flesh.” So it was not the law that was weak, but we. “For the law made nothing perfect.” What is “made nothing perfect”? It made no one perfect, he says, being disobeyed. And besides, even if it had been well obeyed, it would have made a man perfect and virtuous. But for the present the discourse here does not say this, but that it was able to do nothing; and rightly. For they were letters lying there: “Do this, and do not do that,” only giving direction, but not also putting in power. But hope is not such. What is “setting aside”? Change, casting out. And showing of what, he added, saying, “of the former commandment”; calling the law so because it was cast out because of its weakness; and “former” means what is past and has grown old through weakness. So the setting aside is the setting aside of things that prevailed. And it is plain from this that it prevailed … What then? Did the law profit nothing? It profited, and profited greatly; but for making men perfect it did not profit. In this sense, then, he says, “For the law made nothing perfect,” inasmuch as all were types, all a shadow: circumcision, sacrifice, Sabbath, which could not pass into the soul; for this reason it gives way and withdraws. “But there is the bringing in of a better hope, through which we draw near to God. And inasmuch as it was not without an oath.” Do you see why the matter of the oath was necessary here? For this reason he discoursed much above, that God swore, and swore for greater full assurance. “But the bringing in of a better hope.” What is this? The law too had a hope, he says, but not such; for they hoped, if they pleased God, to have the land and to suffer nothing terrible; but here we hope, if we please him, to possess not the land but heaven; or rather, what is much better than this, we hope to stand near God, to come to the Father’s very throne, to minister to him with angels. And see how he sets them down little by little. There he says, “entering into the inner side of the veil”; but here, “through which we draw near to God. And inasmuch as it was not without an oath.” What is “inasmuch as it was not without an oath”? That is, not without an oath. See another difference too. Nor has this been promised simply, he says. “For those have become priests without an oath, but he with an oath, through the one who said to him, The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek; by so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant. And those have become many priests, because they were prevented by death from continuing; but he, because he remains forever, has the priesthood that does not pass away.” He sets down two differences: that it has no end, like that of the law, and that it is with an oath. And he does this from Christ who holds it (“For according to the power,” he says, “of an indestructible life”); and he does it from the oath too, that he swore; and from the matter. For if that, he says, was cast out because it was weak, this, since it is powerful, stands. And he does it from the priest too. How? By showing that he is one; and he would not be one if he were not immortal. For just as the priests are many because they are mortal, so the one is one because he is immortal. “By so much has Jesus become the guarantor of a better covenant,” inasmuch as he swore to him that he would always be priest, he says; he would not have done this unless he were living. “Hence he is able also to save completely those who come to God through him, since he always lives to intercede for them.”

Do you see that he says this with reference to what is according to the flesh? When he has shown him to be priest, then he fitly speaks of interceding. So when Paul says, “who also intercedes for us,” he hints at the same thing, that he intercedes as being high priest. For he who raises the dead as he wills, and gives life just as the Father does, how does he intercede where there is need to save? He who has all judgment, how does he intercede? He who sends the angels, so as to cast some into the furnace and save others, how does he intercede? “Hence,” he says, “he is able also to save.” For this reason, then, he saves, since he does not die. Since he always lives, he has no successor, he says; and if he has no successor, he is able also to protect all. For here the high priest, even if he was admirable, was so up to the time in which he lived, for example Samuel and others like him; but after that, no longer, for they had died; but here it is not so, but he saves completely. What is “completely”? He hints at some great mystery. Not here only, he says, but there too he saves those who come to God through him. How does he save? “Since he always lives,” he says, “to intercede for them.” Do you see how lowly a thing he said because of the humanity? For he does not say that he obtained this by interceding once, but always, and whenever there is need to intercede for them; for “completely” shows this. What is “completely”? Not for the present only, he says, but there too, in the life to come. Does he always need, then, to pray? And how would that be reasonable? Righteous men often achieved everything by a single request, and does he always need it? Why then does he sit together [with the Father]? Do you see that speaking lowly things is condescension? What he says is this: Do not fear, and do not say, “Yes, he loves us, and has boldness with the Father, but he cannot live forever”; for he always lives. “For such a high priest was fitting for us, holy, guileless, undefiled, separated from sinners.” Do you see that all is said of the humanity? And when I say humanity, I mean humanity having Godhead, not dividing them, but leaving you to suppose what is fitting. Have you seen the difference of the high priest? He summed up what was said above, when he said, “one who has been tested in every respect according to likeness, without sin.” “For such a high priest was fitting for us,” he says, “holy, guileless.” What is “guileless”? Not crafty, as the prophet says: “Nor was deceit found in his mouth.” Would anyone say this of God? And would he not be ashamed to say that God is not treacherous nor deceitful? But of what is according to the flesh it would be reasonable: “holy, undefiled”; and this too one would not say of God, for he has a nature that cannot be defiled. “Separated from sinners.” Does this alone show the difference, or the sacrifice itself too? The sacrifice too. How? “He has no need,” he says, “daily, like the high priests, to offer sacrifices first for his own sins, then for those of the people; for this he did once for all, when he offered up himself.” “This”: what? Here he now strikes up beforehand the excellence of the spiritual sacrifice. And he spoke of the difference of the priest, he spoke of that of the covenant, not wholly, but still he spoke of it; here he now strikes up beforehand the sacrifice itself too. Do not, then, when you hear that he is a priest, think that he always performs priestly service; for he served as priest once, and then sat down. For so that you may not think that he stands above and is a minister, he shows that the thing belongs to the dispensation. For just as he became a slave, so too priest and minister; but just as, having become a slave, he did not remain a slave, so too, having become a minister, he did not remain a minister; for sitting does not belong to a minister, but standing. This, then, is what he hints at here, the greatness of the sacrifice, which, being one and offered once, was sufficient for as much as all could not achieve. But not yet about this; for the present he says only so much: “For this he did once for all.” “This”: what? “For it is necessary,” he says, “that this one too have something to offer”; not for himself; for how did he offer for himself, being sinless? But for the people. What do you say? Does he not need to offer for himself, and yet has such power? Yes, he says. For so that you may not think that “he did it once for all” was said of himself too, hear what he adds: “For the law appoints as high priests men who have weakness.” That is why they always offer for themselves; but he who is powerful, who has no sin, why should he offer for himself? So he offered not for himself but for the people, and this once for all. “But the word of the oath, which came after the law, [appoints] a Son, [made perfect forever].” What is this? See: Paul does not set down the contrasts in their proper terms; for having said, “who have weakness,” he did not say “a powerful Son,” but “made perfect,” that is, powerful, as one might say. Do you see that the name “Son” is spoken in contrast to the slave? And by “weakness” he means either sin or death. What is “forever”? Not now only sinless, he says, but always. If, then, he is perfect, if he never sins, if he always lives, why will he offer sacrifices for us many times? But for the present he does not argue about this; but he argues that he does not offer for himself. Since, then, we have such a high priest, let us imitate him, and walk in his steps. There is no other sacrifice; one cleansed us; and after this, fire and gehenna. For this reason he turns it up and down, saying, one priest, one sacrifice, so that no one, thinking there are many …

All of us, then, who have been counted worthy of the seal, who have enjoyed the sacrifice, who have shared in the immortal table, let us remain guarding our nobility and honor; for falling away is not without danger. And let those who have not yet been counted worthy of these things not be confident on that account either; for when someone sins for this reason, so as to receive holy baptism at his last breath, often he will not obtain it. And believe me, I do not say what I am going to say to frighten you: I myself know many who suffered this, who in expectation of illumination sinned much, and on the day of their death departed empty. For God gave baptism to undo sins, not to increase sins; but if someone uses it as license to sin more, it becomes a cause of carelessness. For if there were no washing, they would live more safely, as not having forgiveness. Do you see that it is we who cause the saying, “Let us do evil that good may come”? So I beg you, you too who are uninitiated, be sober. Let no one pursue virtue like a hireling, let no one like an ungrateful man, let no one as something heavy and burdensome. Let us pursue it, then, with eagerness and rejoicing. For if no reward were laid up, ought one not to be good? But nevertheless, let us at least become good with a reward. For how is this not a shame and the greatest condemnation: “If you do not give me a reward,” one says, “I do not become self-controlled”? Then shall I dare to say something? You will never be self-controlled, not even when you are self-controlled, if you do it for a reward; for you count virtue as nothing, if you do not love it. But God, because of our great weakness, has for the present willed it to come about even with a reward; and not even so do we pursue it. Let us suppose, if you will, that some man departs having done countless evils, and having been counted worthy of baptism (which I think does not easily happen); how will he depart there, tell me? Not accused for what he has done, but without boldness, and rightly. For when, having lived a hundred years, he can show no good work, but only that he did not sin, or rather not even this, but that he was saved by grace alone, and sees others crowned, splendid and approved, even if he does not fall into gehenna, will he bear the despondency, tell me? And so that I may make the matter clearer by an example, let there be two soldiers … and let the other do none of these things, but act bravely, achieve great things, set up trophies in wars, bloody his right hand; then, when the time comes, let the one be brought suddenly from that rank in which the thief too was, to the royal throne and the purple; and let that one, the thief, remain there where he was, and only by the king’s loving-kindness not pay the penalty for what he did, but yet be in the last place, and ranked under the king; will he bear the despondency, tell me, when he sees the one who was with him gone up to the very summit of ranks, and so glorious, and ruling the world, while he himself still remains below, and has not even his not being punished with honor, but from the king’s grace and loving-kindness? For even if the king lets him go and frees him from the charges, still he will live ashamed; for surely others will not admire him. For in such pardons we admire not those who receive the gifts but those who give them; and the greater the gifts they give, the more those who receive them are put to shame, when their sins are great. With what eyes, then, will such a man be able to look at those in the palace, when they show countless sweats and wounds, while he has nothing to show, but has even his very salvation from God’s loving-kindness alone? For just as, if someone begged off a murderer, a thief, an adulterer about to be led away, and ordered him to stay at the palace gates, that man would be able to look no one in the face thereafter, even if he has escaped punishment, so too this man. For do not think, because it is called a kingdom, that all obtain the same things. For if here the prefect too, and all those about the king, and those much lower, holding the place of the so-called decani, are in the palace, though the distance between the prefect and the decanus is so great, much more will this be so in the palace above. And I do not say this of myself; for Paul sets down another difference greater than these. “For as many differences,” he says, “as there are from the sun to the moon, and to the stars and to the smallest star, so many are there among those in the kingdom.” And that the difference between the sun and the smallest star is much greater than that between the so-called decanus and the prefect is plain to all. For the sun lights up the whole world at once and makes it bright, and hides the moon and the stars; but the other often does not even appear, and that in darkness; for there are many of the stars which we do not see. When, then, we see others becoming suns, while we have the rank of the smallest stars, those that do not even appear, what consolation will we have? Let us not, I beg you, let us not be so sluggish, not so idle; let us not trade God’s salvation into carelessness, but let us trade with it, and multiply it. For even if someone is a catechumen, yet he knows Christ, yet he has the faith, yet he hears the divine words, yet he is not far from divine knowledge, he knows the will of his Master. Why then does he put it off? Why … delay and defer? Nothing is better than a good life, both here and there, both for the illuminated and for the catechumens. For what burdensome thing, tell me, have we been commanded? “Have a wife,” it says, “and be self-controlled.” Is this burdensome, tell me? And how, when many are self-controlled even without a wife, not Christians only but Greeks too? What the Greek goes beyond for vainglory, will you not even keep for the fear of God? “Give to the poor,” it says, “from what you have.” Is this burdensome? But here too the Greeks accuse us, they who have emptied out whole estates for vainglory alone. “Do not speak obscenely.” Is this hard? For if it had not been commanded, ought we not to achieve it, so as not to appear dishonorable? For that the opposite is hard, I mean speaking obscenely, is plain from the soul’s being ashamed and blushing if it is led on to say anything of the kind, and it will not even say it unless perhaps it is drunk. For why, sitting in the market, even if you do this at home, do you not do it there? Is it not because of those present? Why do you not readily do the same before your wife? Is it not so as not to insult her? So as not to insult your wife, then, you do not do it; and insulting God, do you not blush? For he is present everywhere and hears all things. “Do not be drunk,” it says. Good. For is not this by itself a punishment? It did not say, “Torment the body,” but what? “Do not be drunk,” that is, do not so throw it headlong as to take away the soul’s rule. What then? Must one not provide for the body? God forbid; I do not say this; but do not provide for it to gratify its desires; for so Paul too commanded, saying, “And make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” “Do not seize,” it says, “what is not yours, do not defraud, do not swear falsely.” What toils do these need? What sweats? “Do not speak evil,” it says, “nor slander.” What toil does this have? On the contrary, that is toil. For when you speak ill, at once you are in danger, in suspicion: “Has he heard what I said?”, whether he is great or small; for if he is great, you will at once be in danger in deeds; and if he is small, he will defend himself with equal things, or rather with much harsher; for he will speak worse of you. We have been commanded nothing difficult, nothing burdensome, if we will; but if we will not, even the easiest things will seem burdensome to us. What is easier than eating? But from great sloth many are vexed even at this; and I hear many saying that even eating is a labor. None of these things has labor, if you will; for in willing everything lies, after the grace from above. Let us will the good things, then, so that we may obtain the eternal good things too, by grace and loving-kindness …

“[Now the main point in what we are saying is this: we have such] a high priest, who sat down at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, a minister of the holy things and of the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man.” Paul mixes lowly things with lofty ones, always imitating his own Teacher, so that the lowly things may become a road to the lofty, and through them men may be led by the hand to those, and, having come to the great things, may learn that these were of condescension. This at any rate he does here too; for having said that he offered up himself, and having shown him to be high priest, he adds: “The main point … a high priest, who sat down at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens.” And yet this does not belong to the holy things … to a priest, but to him to whom the priest must minister. “A minister of the holy things.” Not a minister simply, but “a minister of the holy things. And of the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man.” Do you see the condescension? Did he not a little before distinguish, saying, “Are they not all ministering spirits?”, and for this reason they do not hear, “Sit at my right hand”? And he says this as though the one who sits is certainly not a minister; so he hears this because of the flesh. By “tabernacle” here he means heaven. That is why, showing the difference from the Jewish one, he adds, saying, “which the Lord pitched, and not man.” See how he lifted up the souls of those of the Jews who had believed, by saying this. For since it was likely that they imagined, “We do not have such a tabernacle,” See, he says, the priest, both great and much greater than that one, and he has offered a more wonderful sacrifice. But are these not words, not boasting and enticement? But for this reason he confirmed it first from the oath, and now from the tabernacle too. This difference too was plain …; but he thinks of another too: “which the Lord pitched,” he says, “and not man.” Where then are those who say that heaven moves? Where are those who declare it to be spherical? For both these are done away here. “The main point,” he says, “in what we are saying.” What is greatest is always called the main point. Again he brings the discourse down; having said what is lofty, he now speaks the lowly things without fear. Then, so that you may learn that “minister” is said of the humanity, see how he again marks it: “For every high priest,” he says, “is appointed to offer gifts and sacrifices; hence it is necessary that this one too have something to offer.” Do not, because you hear that he sits, think that his being called high priest is idle talk; for the sitting belongs to the dignity of God, but this to his great loving-kindness and his care for us. That is why he emphasizes it and lingers on it more; for he fears that that may overturn this. That is why he again brings the discourse down to this, since some were asking why he died, being a priest. And there is no priest without a sacrifice; so he too must have a sacrifice. And besides, having said that he is above, he says and shows that he is a priest from every side: from Melchizedek, from the oath, from his having offered a sacrifice. From this he now weaves another necessary syllogism. “For if he were on earth,” he says, “he would not be a priest at all, since there are the priests who offer the gifts according to the law.” If, then, he is a priest, he says, as indeed he is, another place must be sought for him. For if he were on earth, he would not be a priest. How so? He did not offer, he did not serve as priest; and rightly, for there were the priests. And he shows that it was not even possible for him to be a priest on earth; how? For there would not even be a rising up [against the appointed priests], he says. Here it is necessary to strain the mind and to perceive the apostolic wisdom; for again he shows the difference of the priesthood. “Who serve,” he says, “a copy and shadow of the heavenly things.” What heavenly things does he mean here? The spiritual things; for even if they are performed on earth, yet they are worthy of heaven. For when our Lord Jesus Christ lies slain, when the Spirit comes, when he who sits at the right hand of the Father is here, when men become sons through the washing, when they are citizens of those in heaven, when we have a fatherland there, and a city, and a commonwealth, when we are strangers to the things here, how are not all these things heavenly?

And what? Are not the hymns heavenly? Do not we below sing in harmony with them the very things that the divine choirs of the bodiless powers sing above? Is not the altar heavenly too? How? It has nothing fleshly; all that is set forth becomes spiritual; the sacrifice is not dissolved into ash, nor into smoke, nor into the savor of fat, but makes what is set forth bright and splendid. And how are the rites not heavenly, when those who minister at them hear still what was said, “Whatever you hold fast is held fast …”, when these hold even the keys of heaven? “Who serve,” he says, “a copy and shadow of the heavenly things, as Moses was instructed when he was about to complete the tabernacle; for see, he says, that you make all things according to the pattern shown you on the mountain.” Since our hearing is less instructive than our sight (for we do not store in the soul what we hear in the same way as what we see with our own eyes), he showed him everything. Either, then, he means this by “a copy and shadow,” or he hints at the temple; for he added, “See that you make all things according to the pattern shown you on the mountain.” Did he see only the construction of the temple, or the sacrifices and all the other things too? Or rather, one would not err in saying this too: for the church is heavenly, and is nothing else than heaven. “But now he has obtained a more excellent ministry, by as much as he is also the mediator of a better covenant.” Do you see, he says, how much better the ministry is than the ministry, since that is a copy and type, but this the truth? But this did not profit the hearers nor gladden them. For this reason he says what most gladdened them: “which has been enacted on better promises.” Having exalted it from the place and the priest and the sacrifice, he then sets down the difference of the covenant too, having said it before as well, when he showed that it was weak and unprofitable. And see what safeguards he sets, being about to accuse it. For there, having said, “according to the power of an indestructible life,” he then said, “there is a setting aside of the former commandment”; then later he set down something great, saying, “through which we draw near to God.” But here, having led us up to heaven, and shown that in place of the temple we have heaven, and that those things were types of ours, and having exalted the ministry by these things, he now fittingly exalts the priesthood too. But, as I said, he sets down what most gladdened them, saying, “which has been enacted on better promises.” From where is this plain? From the fact that the one was cast out and the other brought in in its place; for it prevails for this reason, that it is better. For just as he says, “If perfection were through it, what further need was there for another priest to arise according to the order of Melchizedek?”, so here too he uses the same syllogism, saying, “For if that first had been faultless, no place would have been sought for a second”; that is, if it had nothing lacking, if it made men blameless. For that he speaks of this, hear what follows: “For finding fault with them, he says.” He did not say, “finding fault with it,” but, “finding fault with them, he says, See, the days are coming, says the Lord, and I will accomplish a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah, not according to the covenant which I made with their fathers in the day when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt; because they did not continue in my covenant, and I disregarded them, says the Lord.” Yes, one says; and from where is it plain that it came to an end? He showed this from the priest too; but now he shows it more clearly, in so many words, that it has been cast out. How? By saying, “on better promises.” For how, tell me, are earth and heaven equal? But see how there too he says “promises,” so that you may not accuse this one. For there too, “through which we draw near to God,” he says, “of a better hope,” showing that there too there was hope; and here, “a better promise,” hinting that there too he promised. And since they always charged …, “For see, the days are coming, says the Lord,” he says, “and I will accomplish a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah.” He does not mean some old covenant. For so that they might not be able to say this, he defined the time too; for he did not simply say, “according to the covenant which I made with their fathers,” so that you might not say the one made with Abraham, or that with Noah; but showing which, he says, “not according to the covenant which I made with their fathers” at the exodus. That is why he added, “in the day when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt; because they did not continue in my covenant, and I disregarded them.”

3. Do you see that evils begin first from us? “They,” he says, “first did not continue.” So the neglect comes from us, but the good things from him, I mean those of beneficence. Here he sets down, as it were, a defense, showing the very cause for which he abandons them. “For this is the covenant,” he says, “that I will make with the house of Israel after those days … [putting my laws into] their mind, and I will write them on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” So he says these things about the new one, since he says, “not according to the covenant which I made.” And what other difference is there but this? And if someone should say that the difference is not in this, but in its being given into their hearts, he does not bring in a difference of commands, but shows the manner of the giving. For the covenant will no longer be in letters, he says, but in hearts. Let the Jew, then, show that this ever happened; but he could not find it; for again it came about in letters after the return from Babylon. But I show that the apostles received nothing written, but received it in their hearts through the Holy Spirit. That is why Christ said, “He, when he comes, will remind you of all things, and will teach you.” “And they shall not teach,” he says, “each his neighbor and each his brother, saying, Know the Lord; for all shall know me, from the least to the greatest of them. For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their lawless deeds and their sins I will remember no more.” See another sign too: “From the least,” he says, “to the greatest of them they shall know me, and they shall not say, Know the Lord.” When did this happen but now? For ours is plain, but theirs is not plain, but was shut up in a corner. And besides, a covenant is then called new when it is other, and shows if it has anything more than the old. And it is also new when some parts of it are taken away and others not; for example, to speak by illustration, if someone, leaving the whole of an old house that is about to fall, underpins the foundation, we at once say, He has made it new, when he takes some things out and brings others in. For heaven too is called new so, when it is no longer bronze but gives rain; and the earth likewise new, when it is not unfruitful, not when it is changed. And a house is so new, when some parts are taken out and others remain. So he rightly said “a new covenant,” to show that that covenant had become old, in that it gave no fruit. And that you may learn this exactly, read what Haggai says, what Zechariah, what the angel, and what Ezra charges. How then did [the people] receive him? How does no one ask the Lord, when they themselves [the priests] transgressed and did not even know? Do you see how your interpretation has been forced? But I set down my own view, that this would properly be called new. And besides, I do not even grant that this was said about it, “The heaven will be new.” For why, when he says in Deuteronomy, “The heaven will be bronze,” did he not set this in the contrast: “but if you listen, it will be new”? And indeed for this reason he says that he will give another covenant, since they did not continue in the former. This I show from what he says: “For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh”; and again, “Why do you test God, putting a yoke on the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear?” “Because they did not continue,” he says. Here he shows that he counts us worthy of greater and spiritual things. “For their sound has gone out,” it says, “into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world.” That is, “they shall not say each to his neighbor, Know the Lord.” And again, “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as much water to cover the seas.” “[In saying, A new covenant, he has made] the first [old]. But what is becoming old and growing aged is near to vanishing away.” See how he uncovered the hidden meaning of the prophet. He honored the law, and did not wish to call it old by name; but nevertheless he said this; for if that was new, he would not have called this later one new. So, giving something more and another thing, “It has been made old,” he says. Then it is undone and perishes and is no longer. Having taken boldness from the prophet, he attacks it the more, to our profit, showing that our things are now flourishing; that is, he showed it to be old. Then, taking the name “old,” and adding another of his own, that of age, he took what remained from the rest, and says, “near to vanishing away.” So the new did not simply make the old cease, but as grown aged, as not useful. That is why he said, “because of its weakness and unprofitableness,” and, “the law made nothing perfect,” and that, “if the first had been faultless, no place would have been sought for a second.” What is “faultless”? Useful, strong. And he says this not to show it answerable to charges, but as not sufficient; he spoke rather in common speech, as one might say, “The house is not faultless,” that is, it has a defect, it is rotten; “the garment is not faultless,” that is, it is now falling apart. So he says it here not as evil, but as having a fault and a defect …

So we too are new, or rather we became new; but now we have grown old; that is why we are near to vanishing and destruction. But if we will, it is possible to scrape off this old age. By the washing it is no longer possible, but here it is possible by repentance. If there is anything old in us, let us throw it off; if there is any wrinkle, any stain, any spot, let us wash it away and become beautiful, so that the king may desire our beauty. It is possible even for those who have fallen into the extreme of ugliness to recover that beauty about which David says, “Hear, daughter, and see, and incline your ear, and forget your people and your father’s house, and the king will desire your beauty.” And yet forgetting does not produce beauty, the beauty of the soul. What forgetting? That of sins. For he speaks to the church from the Gentiles, exhorting her not to remember the ancestral things, that is, those of men who sacrificed to idols; for it was gathered from such. And he did not say, “Do not pursue them,” but, what is more, “Do not even take them into your mind”; which he says elsewhere too: “I will not take their names upon my lips”; and again, “that my mouth may not speak the works of men.” This is not yet great virtue; or rather it is great, but not such. For there what does he say? He did not say, “You shall not speak of the things of the fathers,” but, “Do not even remember them, do not even take them into your mind.” Do you see how great a distance he wishes us to keep from wickedness? For he who does not remember will not reckon; and he who does not reckon does not even speak; and he who does not speak will not even do it. Do you see by how many roads he walled us off beforehand, by how many distances he kept us far, and with abundant margin? Let us too, then, hear and forget our evils; not, I mean, the sins we have committed; for “Remember first,” he says, “and I will not remember.” I mean, for example: let us no longer remember robbery, but let us also restore what we took before. This is to forget wickedness: to cast out the thought of robbery and never again receive it, but also to wipe out the offenses already committed. And from where would forgetting of wickedness come to us? From the remembrance of God’s good things; if we remember God continually, we cannot remember those things. “If I remembered you,” he says, “on my bed, at dawn I meditated on you.” Always, then, but especially at the time when the mind is in quiet, one must remember God, when through that remembrance it can condemn itself, when it can be held in the remembrance. For if we remember by day, other cares and tumults coming in drive it out again; but by night it is possible to remember continually, when the soul is in calm and at rest, when it is in harbor, when it is in fair weather. “What you say in your hearts, be sorry for on your beds,” he says. For one ought to have this remembrance by day too; but since you are always anxious and distracted by the things of this life, at least then remember God on your bed; at dawn meditate on him. If we meditate on these things at dawn, we shall go to our business with great safety; if we first make God gracious by petition and supplication, going forth so we shall have no enemy; and even if you have one, you will laugh at him, having God gracious. There is war in the marketplace; the daily affairs are a battle; there is surge and storm. We need arms, then; and prayer is a great weapon. We need favorable winds; we must learn everything, so as to get through the length of the day without shipwrecks and wounds; for many are the rocks every day. For this reason we need prayer above all, at dawn and at night. Many of you have often watched the Olympic games; and not only watched, but became partisans and admirers of the contestants, one of this one, another of that. You know, then, that on the days of the contests, and through those nights, through the whole night the herald thinks of nothing else, cares about nothing else, than how, when he comes out, he may not disgrace himself. For those who sit beside the trumpeter urge him not even to speak to anyone, so that his breath may not be spent and he incur laughter. If, then, one who is to contend before men takes such forethought, much more will it befit us to be continually thoughtful and anxious, for whom the whole of life is a contest. Let every night, then, be a vigil, and let us be anxious how, going out by day, we may not incur laughter. And would that it were laughter only! But now the president of the games sits at the right hand of the Father, listening exactly whether we utter anything out of tune, anything off the melody; for he is the judge not of deeds only, but of words too. Let us keep vigil, beloved; we too have partisans, if we will; an angel sits beside each of us; but we snore through the whole night. And would that this were all! But many also do many wanton things, some going to the brothels themselves, others making their houses brothels by bringing courtesans there. Very well indeed (do they not?) are they anxious to contend! Others get drunk and talk nonsense, others make uproar, others keep vigil wickedly, weaving plots worse than the sleepers; others counting interest, others cut by cares, and doing everything rather than what befits the contest. So, I beg you, leaving everything, let us look to this alone, how we may win the prize and bind on the crown; let us do everything by which we shall be able to obtain the promised good things; which may we all obtain, by grace and loving-kindness …

“Now even the first had ordinances of worship and the earthly sanctuary. For a tabernacle was prepared, the first, in which were the lampstand and the table and the setting forth of the loaves, which is called the Holy Place. And after the second veil, the tabernacle which is called the Holy of Holies, having a golden censer and the ark of the covenant covered on all sides with gold, in which were a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant; and above it the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat; of which we cannot now [speak in detail].” He showed from the priest, from the priesthood, from the covenant, that that was to have an end; he now shows it from the form of the tabernacle itself too. How? By saying “Holy Place” and “Holy of Holies.” The Holy Place, then, is a symbol of the former time; for there everything is done through sacrifices; but the Holy of Holies, of the present time. And by Holy of Holies he means heaven, and the veil is the same as heaven, and the flesh entering into the inner side of the veil, that is, through the veil of his flesh. And it is well to take up this passage from the beginning. What then does he say? “Now even the first had.” What first? The covenant. “Ordinances of worship.” What is “ordinances”? Symbols, or rites; as if he said, It had them then, it does not have them now; he already shows by this that it had given way; for it had them then, he says. So now, even if it stands, it is not. “And the earthly sanctuary.” He calls it earthly since it was open for all to enter, and the place was plain in the same space, where the priests stood, where the Jews, the proselytes, the Greeks, the Nazirites. Since, then, it was accessible to Greeks too, he calls it earthly; for surely the Jews were not the world. “For a tabernacle was prepared,” he says, “the first, which is called the Holy Place, in which were the lampstand and the table and the setting forth of the loaves.” These are symbols of the world. “And after the second veil.” So there was not one veil, but there was an outer veil too … everywhere he calls it a tabernacle from his tabernacling there. “Having a golden censer,” he says, “and the ark of the covenant covered on all sides with gold, in which were a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant.” All these were venerable and splendid reminders of Jewish ingratitude. “And the tablets of the covenant”; for they broke them; and the manna, for they murmured; and for this reason, handing down the memory to their descendants, he commanded it to be laid up in the golden jar. “And Aaron’s rod that budded”; for they rose up in revolt. Since, then, the Jews were ungrateful, and, though continually receiving benefits, forgot them, for this reason by the lawgiver’s command they laid these up in the golden jar, and so handed down the memory to their descendants. “And above it the cherubim of glory overshadowing [the mercy seat].” Either the glorious ones, or those beneath God, he means. And he rightly exalts these things by his word, so as to show that what came after them is greater. “Of which we cannot now speak in detail,” he says. Here he hinted that these were not only what was seen, but were certain riddles. “Of which we cannot now speak in detail,” he says; perhaps as needing a long discourse. “These things having been so prepared, the priests go continually into the first tabernacle performing the services.” That is, these things existed, but the Jews themselves did not enjoy them, for they did not see them. So they belonged not to those men rather than to those for whom they were types beforehand. “But into the second the high priest alone, once a year, not without blood, which he offers for himself and for the errors of the people.” Do you see the types already laid down beforehand? For so that they might not say, “How is there one sacrifice? And how did the high priest offer once?”, he shows that it was so from of old, since the holier [tabernacle] was one and awesome. So they were accustomed from of old; for then too the high priest, he says, offered once. And he rightly said, “not without blood”; not without blood indeed, yet not this blood; for the matter was not so great. He shows that it will be not consumed by fire, but rather shown forth by blood. For since he called the cross a sacrifice, having neither fire nor wood, nor offered many times, but offered once in blood, he shows that the old sacrifice too was such, offered once, in blood. “Which he offers,” he says, “for himself and for the errors of the people.” See: he did not say “sins,” but “errors,” so that they might not be puffed up. For even if you did not sin willingly, he says, yet you erred unwillingly, and of this no one is clean. And everywhere he sets “for himself,” showing that Christ is much greater than the high priest among the Jews. For if he is separated from our sins, how did he offer for himself? “Why then did you say these things?” one says. For this belongs to one better. Here there is no contemplation anywhere; now he contemplates and says, “The Holy Spirit signifying this, that the way into the holy places has not yet been made manifest while the first tabernacle is still standing.” For this reason, he says, these things were so prepared, so that we might learn that the Holy of Holies, that is, heaven, is still inaccessible. Let us not, then, since we do not enter it, he says, think that it does not even exist, since [the people] did not enter the Holy of Holies either. “Which is a figure,” he says, “for the present time.”

What “present time” does he mean? That before the coming of Christ; for after the coming of Christ it is no longer a present time; for how could it be, when it has come upon us and has an end? And showing something else too, he says this: “Which is a figure for the present time, [according to which] gifts and sacrifices are offered, which cannot make [the worshiper] perfect in conscience.” Have you seen how clearly he showed from here what is meant by “the law made nothing perfect,” and “if the first had been faultless”? How? “In conscience.” For the sacrifices did not remit the filth of the soul, but were still concerned with the body; “according to the law of a fleshly commandment,” he says. For they could not remit adultery, nor murder, nor sacrilege. Do you see? “Eat this, do not eat that,” … which are indifferent things. “Only in foods and drinks and various washings.” “Drink this,” he says; and yet nothing had been ordained about drink; but disparaging them he spoke so: “and [various] washings, and ordinances of the flesh, imposed until a time of reformation.” For this is the righteousness of the flesh. Here he casts down the sacrifices, showing that they had no strength, and that they were until a time of reformation; that is, they waited for the time that would set all things right. “But Christ, having come as high priest of the good things to come, through the greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands.” Here he means the flesh. And he rightly called it greater and more perfect, since God the Word and all the working of the Spirit dwells in it (“for God does not give the Spirit by measure”); or he says “more perfect” as being also without reproach, and achieving greater things. “That is, not of this creation.” See how it is greater; for it would not be from the Spirit if a man had built it. “Not of this creation,” he says, that is, not of these created things, but spiritual; for it was fashioned from the Holy Spirit. Do you see how he calls the body both tabernacle and veil and heaven? “Through the greater and more perfect tabernacle,” he says; then, “through the veil, that is, his flesh”; and again, “into the inner side of the veil”; and again, “entering into the Holy of Holies, to appear before the face of God.” Why then does he do this? Wishing to teach us that it is the same thing according to one meaning and another. I mean, for example: heaven is a veil, for just as a veil walls off the holy places, so does the flesh, hiding the Godhead; and the flesh likewise is a tabernacle, holding the Godhead; and heaven again is a tabernacle, for the priest is within there. “But Christ,” he says, “having come as high priest.” He did not say “having become,” but “having come,” that is, having come for this very purpose, not having succeeded another; he did not first come and then become, but came and was at once. And he did not say, “having come as high priest of what is sacrificed,” but “of the good things,” as though speech could not set forth the whole. “Not through the blood of goats and calves,” he says. All is changed. “But through his own blood he entered once for all into the holy places.” See, he called heaven this. “He entered once for all into the holy places,” he says, “having obtained eternal redemption.” And “having obtained” belonged to the very hard and unexpected things, how by a single entrance he obtained eternal redemption. Then the persuasive argument: “For if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling those who have been defiled, sanctify for the purity of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the Holy Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?” For if the blood of bulls, he says, can cleanse flesh, much more will the blood of Christ wipe away the filth of the soul. For so that you might not, on hearing “sanctifies,” think it something great, he marks and shows the difference between the two purifications, and how the one is lofty and the other lowly; and he says that it is fitting, since that was the blood of bulls, but this of Christ. And he was not content with the name, but sets down the manner of the offering too: “Who through the Holy Spirit,” he says, “offered himself without blemish to God”; that is, the victim was without blemish, clean of sins. And “through the Holy Spirit” shows that it was offered not through fire nor through any other things. “Will cleanse your conscience,” he says, “from dead works.” And he rightly said “from dead works”; for if anyone then touched a dead body, he was defiled; and here, if anyone touches a dead work, he is defiled through the conscience. “To serve the living God,” he says, “and true.” Here he shows that one who has dead works cannot serve the living God. And he rightly said “true and living God,” showing from this that what is offered to him must be such. So these things of ours are both living and true; but those among the Jews both dead and false; and rightly.

3. Let no one, then, having dead works, come in here. For if one who touched a dead body was not to come in, much more one who has dead works; for it is a most grievous defilement. And dead works are all that have no life, that breathe out a stench. For just as a dead body is of no use for any sensation, but even pains those who come near, so too sin at once strikes the reasoning faculty, and does not let the mind itself be at rest, but troubles and disturbs it. And a pestilence, they say, when it arises, destroys bodies. Such too is sin; it differs nothing from a pestilence, not destroying the air first and then bodies, but at once [entering] into the soul … Do you not see those stricken with pestilence, how they are inflamed, how they toss about, how they are filled with stench, how ugly their faces are, how wholly unclean? Such too are those who sin, even if they do not see it. For tell me, is not the man seized with desire for money or for bodies worse than anyone in a fever? Is he not more unclean than all these, doing and suffering every shameless thing? For what is more shameful than a man in love with money? All that courtesans and women of the stage do not refuse to do, this man does not refuse either; or rather, it is more likely that they would refuse than he. Why do I say “does not refuse”? He even submits to slavish things, flattering those he should not, and again being insolent where he should not, inconsistent everywhere; flattering wicked men and sorcerers, often corrupt, … and insulting and being insolent toward others who are good and virtuous in every way. Have you seen the unseemliness on both sides, the shamelessness? He is both lowly beyond measure and arrogant. But harlots stand at the brothel, and this is the charge, that they sell the body for money; yet they have some excuse, poverty and the hunger that compels them; though not even this is enough for an excuse, for they could [support themselves] by working. But here the covetous man stands, not at a brothel but in the middle of the city, betraying not his body but his soul to the devil, so that he consorts and goes in to him as truly to a harlot, and goes out having fulfilled all his desire; and the whole city sees it, not two or three men. And this too is proper to harlots, that they belong to whoever gives the gold; for whether he is a slave or free, or a gladiator, or anyone at all, if he holds out the fee, they receive him; but those who hold out nothing, even if they are the noblest of all, they do not admit without the silver. This these men too do here: right thoughts [they turn away, when they bring nothing] …, they consort with men truly fighters with beasts for the gold, and consort shamefully, and destroy the beauty of the soul. For just as those women are by nature ugly and misshapen and shameful on every side, so too the souls of these become, not [able to hide it] even by outward [paint]. For when the ugliness is extreme, whatever they contrive, they cannot even pretend. For that shamelessness makes harlots, hear the prophet saying, “You became shameless toward all; you had a harlot’s face.” This one may say to the covetous too: you became shameless toward all, not toward these and those, but toward all. How? Such a man respects no father, no son, no wife, no friend, no brother, no benefactor, no one at all. And why do I speak of friend and brother and father? He does not respect God himself, but everything seems a fable to him, and he laughs, drunk with great desire, and does not even admit to his hearing anything that could profit him. But oh, the absurdity, and what things they utter! “Woe to you, mammon, and to the one who does not have you!” Here I am sawn asunder with anger; for woe to those who say these things, even if they say them in jest. For tell me, did not God threaten such a threat, saying, “You cannot serve two masters”? And do you undo the threat, daring to utter such things to your own harm? Does not Paul say that it is idolatry, and call the covetous man an idolater? And you stand laughing like women of the world, making jokes like those on the stage.

4. This has overturned everything, this has cast everything down; our affairs have become laughter, and wit and urbanity; nothing is steady, nothing firm. I do not say these things to men of the world only, but I know those at whom I hint; for the church is filled with laughter. If someone says something witty, at once laughter arises among those seated; and the wonderful thing is that many do not stop laughing even at the very time of prayer. Everywhere the devil dances, he has entered into all, he rules over all; Christ is dishonored, thrust aside; the church is of no account. Do you not hear Paul saying, “Let shamefulness and foolish talk and jesting be taken away from you”? He sets jesting with shamefulness; and do you laugh? What is foolish talk? Things that have nothing useful. And do you, a monk, laugh at all and break your face into laughter? You who are crucified, you who mourn, do you laugh, tell me? Where did you hear of Christ doing this? Nowhere; but often of his being downcast. For when he saw Jerusalem, he wept; and when he thought of the betrayer, he was troubled; and when he was about to raise Lazarus, he wept; and do you laugh? If one who does not grieve at others’ sins deserves accusation, one who is unpained … and laughs at his own, of what pardon will he be worthy? The present time is one of mourning and affliction, of buffeting and subjection, of contests and sweats; and do you laugh? Do you not see how Sarah was rebuked? Do you not hear Christ saying, “Woe to those who laugh, for they shall weep”? These things you sing every day. For what do you say, tell me? “I laughed”? Not at all; but what? “I am weary with my groaning.” But perhaps some are so loose and slack as to laugh even at this rebuke, because we are discoursing about laughter. For such is the frenzy, such the madness: it does not even perceive the rebuke. The priest of God stands offering up the prayer of all, and do you laugh, fearing nothing? And he, trembling, offers up the prayers for you, and do you despise it? Do you not hear Scripture saying, “Woe to the despisers”? Do you not shudder? Do you not humble yourself? And when you go into a palace, you adorn yourself in dress and look and gait and all the rest; but here, where the palace truly is, and such as the heavenly things, do you even laugh? I know that you do not see; but hear that angels are present everywhere, and above all in the house of God they stand by the King, and all is filled with those bodiless powers. This word of mine is to women too, who before their husbands do not readily dare to do this, and if they do, not always, but at the time of relaxation; but here always. Do you veil your head, tell me, and laugh, woman, sitting in church? You came in to confess your sins, to fall down before God, to entreat and supplicate for your wrongdoings, and do you do this with laughter? How then will you be able to appease him? “And what evil is laughter?” one says. Laughter is not evil, but what is beyond measure, what is out of season, is evil. Laughter is set in us so that, when we see friends after a long time, we may do this; when we see people dismayed and afraid, we may relax them with a smile; not so that we may guffaw and laugh always. Laughter is set in our soul so that the soul may sometimes be relaxed, not so that it may be dissipated. For desire for bodies too is set in us, and it is not at all necessary, because it is set in us, to use it, or to use it without measure; but we master it, and do not say, “Since it is set in us, let us use it.” Serve God with tears, so that you may be able to wash away your sins. I know that many mock us, saying, “At once tears!” For this reason it is a time for tears. … [I know too] that those take it as an ill omen who say, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” But consider that “vanity of vanities, all is vanity”; it is not I who say it, but he who had experience of all things says it: “I built myself houses, I planted myself vineyards, I made myself …” And what does he say after all this? “Vanity of [vanities] …” … so that we may truly rejoice in the time of pure joy; for this joy is in every case mixed with grief, and one can never find it pure; but that is unmixed and without guile, having nothing treacherous nor mixed in; let us rejoice in that joy, let us pursue that. But it is not possible to obtain it otherwise than by choosing here not pleasant things but profitable ones, and being afflicted a little willingly, and bearing all that befalls with thanksgiving. For so we shall be able to obtain the kingdom of heaven too, by grace and loving-kindness, and the rest.

“And for this reason he is the mediator of a new covenant, so that, a death having taken place for the redemption of the transgressions under the first covenant, those who are called may receive the promise of the eternal inheritance. For where there is a covenant, the death of the one who made it must be brought in; for a covenant is valid over the dead, since it is never in force while the one who made it lives. Hence not even the first was inaugurated without [blood].” It was likely that many of the weaker … would disbelieve his promises most of all because Christ had died. Paul, then, overturning such a suspicion with abundant force, sets down this example, taking it from common custom. What is this? For this very reason one ought to be confident, he says. Why? Because covenants are valid and receive their force not while those who made them are living, but when they have died. That is why he begins so, and for this reason says, “He is the mediator of a new covenant.” A covenant is made toward the last day of one’s life. And such is the covenant … So here too Christ says about the heirs, “I wish that where I am, these too may be.” And again, hear him speaking about those disinherited: “I do not ask for all, [but] for those who believe in me through their word.” Again, a covenant has some things that belong to the one who makes it, and some that belong to those who receive it; so that they receive some things and do others. So here too: after promising countless things, he demands also what is theirs, saying, “A new commandment I give you.” Again, a covenant ought to have witnesses; and hear him again saying, “I am he who bears witness about myself, and the Father who sent me bears witness about me”; and again, “He will bear witness about me,” speaking of the Paraclete; and he sent the twelve apostles, saying, “Bear witness before God.” And for this reason he says, “He is the mediator of a new covenant.” What is a mediator? The mediator is not master of the thing of which he is mediator, but the thing is one and the mediator another; for example, the mediator of a marriage is not the one who marries, but the one who helps the one about to take a wife. So here too the Son became mediator between the Father and us. The Father did not wish to leave us this inheritance, but was angry with us and indignant, as against those who were estranged; so he became mediator between us and him, and persuaded him. And see how he became mediator: he carried words back and forth, ferrying across to us the things from the Father, and [bringing in] death; … [for those for whom we had sinned], he died for us, and made us worthy of the covenant. For this reason the covenant is valid, since it is no longer made for the unworthy. At the beginning, then, he made the covenant as a Father to sons; but since we became unworthy, there was no longer need of a covenant, but of punishment. Why then, he says, do you think highly of the law? For it brought us into such sin that we could never have been saved; if our Master had not died for us, the law would not have prevailed, being weak. And he no longer confirms it from common custom only, but also from what happened in the Old [Testament], which drew them most. “But no one had died there,” one says; “how then was that covenant valid?” In the same way, he says. How? For there too there was blood, as here there is blood. And if it was not the blood of Christ, do not wonder; for it was a type. That is why he says, “Hence not even the first was inaugurated without blood.” What is [“inaugurated”? Confirmed …]. “Hence,” that is, for this reason, he says, the symbol of the covenant had to …

For why, tell me, was the book of the covenant sprinkled? “For when every commandment had been spoken by Moses to all the people according to the law, he took the blood of calves with water and scarlet wool and hyssop, and sprinkled both the book itself and all the people, saying, This is the blood of the covenant which God commanded you.” Why then, tell me, are the book of the covenant and the people sprinkled? Because the precious blood was being sketched from of old, that blood and the other things became a kind of type. And why with hyssop too? Because, being thick and soft, it held the blood. And what of the water? This too as signifying cleansing through water. And what of the wool? This too was taken so as to hold the blood. He shows here that blood and water are the same thing; for baptism is a symbol of his very passion. “And he likewise sprinkled with blood the tabernacle and all the vessels of the ministry. And according to the law almost all things are cleansed with blood, and without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.” Why did he say “almost”? Why did he qualify it? Because those were not a perfect cleansing, nor a perfect forgiveness, but half-complete and in the smallest part; but here, “This is the blood,” he says, “of the new covenant, poured out for you for the forgiveness of sins.” Where then is the book? Their minds. So they themselves were the books of the new covenant. And where are the vessels of the ministry? They themselves are. And where is the tabernacle? They themselves again: “For I will dwell in them,” he says, “and walk among them.” But here he did not sprinkle with scarlet wool nor with hyssop. Why? For the cleansing was not bodily but spiritual, and the blood spiritual. How? For it did not flow from the body of irrational animals, but from a body fashioned by the Spirit. With this blood not Moses but Christ sprinkled us, through the word that was spoken: “This is the blood of the new covenant for the forgiveness of sins.” This word, dipped in the blood instead of hyssop, sprinkles all. And there the body was cleansed outwardly, for the cleansing was bodily; but here, since the cleansing is spiritual, it enters into the soul and cleanses, not simply being sprinkled around, but springing up in our souls. Those who are initiated know what is said! And in their case it sprinkled the very surface, and the one sprinkled washed himself again; for he did not go about always bloodied; but with the soul it is not so, but the blood is mingled with its very substance, making it strong and pure, and leading it to beauty itself beyond conception. He now shows that death was the cause not only of confirmation but also of cleansing. For since death seemed a polluted thing, and above all death on a cross, he says that it cleansed, and cleansed with a precious cleansing, and for greater things; for this reason the sacrifices went before, because of this blood; for this reason lambs, for this reason all things came about. “It was necessary, then, for the copies of the things in the heavens to be cleansed with these, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these.” And how are they copies of the things in the heavens? And what does he now call the things in the heavens? Heaven? Or the angels? None of these, but our things. So our things are in the heavens, and heavenly, even if they are performed on earth. For angels too are on earth, yet they are called heavenly; and the cherubim appeared on earth, yet they are heavenly. And why do I say “appeared”? Rather they dwell on the earth, as in paradise. But this did not hinder anything; for even so they are heavenly. “And our commonwealth is in heaven,” though we live as citizens here. “But the heavenly things themselves,” that is, the philosophy that is ours, those who are called there. “With better sacrifices than these.” “Better” is said of what is better than something good; so the copies of the things in the heavens too had become good. For not even the copies were evil; otherwise those things too would be evil of which they are copies.

If, then, we are heavenly, and have obtained such a substance, let us shudder; let us no longer remain on earth; for it is possible even now for one who wishes not to be on earth. For being on earth and not being on earth comes about by manner of life and by choice. I mean, for example: God is said to be in heaven; why? Not as shut up in a place, God forbid, nor as leaving the earth bereft of his presence, but by his relation and familiarity with the angels. If, then, we too are near God, we are in heaven. For what do I care about heaven, when I see the Master of heaven, when I myself become heaven? “For we will come,” he says, “I and my Father, and make our abode with him.” Let us make our soul heaven, then. Heaven is bright by nature; for it does not become black even in winter; for it does not change its appearance itself, but the clouds, running together, cover it. Heaven has a sun; we too have the Sun of righteousness. I said, It is possible to become like heaven; and I see that it is possible even to become better than heaven. How? When we have the Master of the sun. Heaven is pure and spotless on every side; it does not change in winter nor at night; let us not, then, suffer this either, neither in afflictions nor in the schemes of the devil, but let us remain spotless and pure. Heaven is high and far from the earth; let us too do this; let us withdraw ourselves from the earth and be lifted up to that height. And how shall we withdraw ourselves from the earth? When we imagine heavenly things. Heaven is above rains and storms, and is overtaken by nothing; this we too shall be able to do, if we will. It seems to suffer, but does not suffer; let us not, then, suffer either, even if we seem to suffer. For just as in winter most people do not know its beauty, but think that it is changed, while those who are wise know that it has suffered nothing, so too with us in afflictions: most people think that we have been changed along with them, and that the affliction has reached our very heart; but the wise know that it has not touched us. Let us become heaven, then; let us go up to that height, and so we shall see men differing nothing from ants; I do not mean the poor only, nor the rich, but even if one is a general, even if a king, we shall not see the king there, nor the private man; we shall not know what gold is, nor silver, nor a silk garment or a purple one; we shall see everything like flies, if we sit on that height; there is no tumult there, no disturbance, no shouting. “And how is it possible,” one says, “to be lifted to that height while walking on the earth?” I do not say this in word merely; but if you wish, I show you in deed those who reached that height. Who are these? Paul and those with him, I mean, who, being on earth, spent their time in heaven. And why do I say in heaven? They were higher than heaven, and than the other heaven, and went up to God himself. “For who shall separate us,” he says, “from the love of Christ? Affliction, or distress, or famine, or persecution, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?” And again, “while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen.” Do you see that he did not even see the things here? And that I may show you that he was higher than the heavens, hear him saying, “For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature, will be able to separate us from the love of Christ.” Do you see how his mind, passing by everything, made itself higher, not of this creation only, and of the third [heaven] …, not of these heavens only, but of any others there might be? Have you seen the height of mind? Have you seen what the tentmaker became when he willed it, he who spent his whole life in the marketplace? For there is no hindrance, there is none, to surpassing all, if we will. For if we so achieve arts that surpass the many, much more what does not need so much toil. For what, tell me, is harder than to put on and take off one’s clothes walking on a stretched rope, as though sitting on a bed? Does not the thing seem so fearful to us that we do not even wish to watch it, but fear and tremble even at the sight? And what, tell me, is harder than to take a pole on one’s face, and then, having set a child on top, to do countless things and delight the spectators? What is harder than to play ball with swords? What, tell me, is heavier than to search out the depth of the sea? And one could name countless other arts; but virtue is easier than all these, if we will, and to go up to heaven; for here one need only will, and everything follows. For one cannot say, “I cannot”; for this is to accuse the Creator; for if he made us unable and then commands, it is an accusation against him. “How then,” one says, “are many not able?” Because they do not will. And why do they not will? From carelessness; so if they will, they will certainly be able. That is why Paul too says, “I wish all men to be as I myself am,” since he knew that all could be as he was; for he would not have said this if it were impossible. Do you wish to become virtuous? Only lay hold of the beginning. Tell me, in all the arts, when we wish to become skilled in them, are we content with willing, or do we also put our hands to the work? I mean, for example: someone wishes to become a pilot; he does not say, “I wish,” and rest content with this, but he also puts his hand to the thing. He wishes to become a merchant; he does not say only, “I wish,” but he also puts his hand to the thing. Again he wishes to travel abroad, and he does not say, “I wish,” but puts his hand to the thing. Then in everything willing alone is not enough, but the work too must be added; and when you wish to go up to heaven, do you say only, “I wish”? “How then,” one says, “did you say that willing is enough?” Willing with works, the willing that lays hold of the thing, that toils. For we have God working with us and acting with us; only let us choose, only let us apply ourselves to the thing in deed, only let us be anxious, only let us take it to heart, and everything follows. But if we sleep, and expect to enter heaven while snoring, when shall we be able to take possession of the inheritance of heaven? Let us will, then, I beg you, let us will. Why do we carry on all our trading for the present life …? [Let us choose] the virtue that will last for us for all eternity, in which we shall be forever and shall enjoy the eternal good things? Which may we all obtain, by grace and loving-kindness, and the rest.

“For Christ did not enter into holy places made with hands, copies of the true ones, but into heaven itself, now to appear before the face of God for us; nor that he should offer himself often, as the high priest enters the Holy of Holies every year with blood not his own; for then he would have had to suffer often since the foundation of the world; but now once, at the consummation of the ages, he has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice.” The Jews thought highly of the temple and the tabernacle; that is why they said, “The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.” For no such temple was built anywhere else on earth, neither for costliness, nor for beauty, nor for anything else. For God, who ordained it, commanded it to be made with great magnificence, since they too … for it had golden … on the walls; and whoever wishes may learn this in the second book of Kingdoms and in Ezekiel, how much gold went into the building, both for beauty and for all the rest. And it was venerable not only for this, but also for being one, and for drawing all by its beauty; for they came there from the ends of the earth, whether from Babylon or from Ethiopia. And Luke, making this plain in the Acts, said, “And there were dwelling there Parthians and Medes and Elamites, … Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya about Cyrene.” Those, then, who were in every part of the world gathered there, and the renown of the temple was great. What then does Paul do? As in the case of the sacrifices, so he does here too; for just as there he set the death of Christ against them, so here he sets the whole of heaven against the temple. And not by this alone did he show the difference, but also by adding that the priest is nearer, [appearing before the face] of God. So he made the thing venerable not by heaven only, but by the entrance too. For it is not simply through symbols, as here, but he sees God himself there. Do you see that for the sake of condescension the lowly things are said everywhere? Why then do you wonder any longer if he intercedes, when he sets him as high priest? “Nor that he should offer himself often,” he says, “as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood …” “For Christ did not enter,” he says, “into holy places made with hands, copies of the true ones.” So those are true, and these types; for the temple was built so, as heaven is of heaven. What do you say? Unless he enters heaven, does he who is present everywhere and fills all things not appear? Do you see that all these things belong to the flesh? “And to appear,” he says, “before the face of God for us.” What is “for us”? He went up with a sacrifice, he says, able to propitiate the [Father]. Why, tell me? Was he himself the enemy? The angels were enemies, he himself was not an enemy. For that the angels were enemies, hear what he says: “He made peace between the things on earth and the things in heaven.” So he rightly said that he too “entered into [heaven itself, to appear before the face] of God for us.” Now he appears, but for … “as the high priest enters the Holy of Holies every year with blood not his own.” Do you see how many the differences are? Once instead of often, in his own blood instead of in another’s. The distance is great. He himself, then, is both victim and priest. “For then he would have had to suffer often,” he says, “since the foundation of the world.” Here he reveals a doctrine, and says that if he had had to offer sacrifices often, he would have had to be crucified often too. “But now once, at the consummation of the ages.” Why “at the consummation of the ages”? After many sins. If, then, he had come at the beginning, and then no one had believed, the dispensation would have been without profit; for Christ was not to die a second time, so that the object of his zeal might be achieved even so; but since later the sins were many, he rightly appeared then. Which he says elsewhere too: “Where sin abounded, grace superabounded.” “But now,” he says, “once, at the consummation of the ages, he has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice. And just as it is appointed for men to die once, and after this the judgment.”

Having shown that he did not need to die often, he now shows also why he died once: that by one death [he became a ransom; for it is appointed] for men to die once. This, then, “he died once,” for all men. What then? Do we no longer die that death? We die, but we do not remain in it; which is not even to die. For the tyranny of death, and death truly, is this, when the one who has died is no longer allowed to return to life; but when after dying he lives, and a better life, this is not death but sleep. Since, then, death was going to hold all, for this reason he died, so that he might free us. “So also Christ, having been offered once.” Offered by whom? By himself, clearly. Here he shows him not only as priest, but also as victim and offering. Then he adds the cause of “having been offered”: “Having been offered once,” he says, “to bear the sins of many.” Why did he say “of many” and not “of all”? Because not all believed. For he died for all, to save all, as far as in him lay; for that death was equal in weight to the destruction of all; but he did not bear the sins of all, because they did not will it. And what is “to bear sins”? Just as in the offering that we bring up, we bring forward our sins too, saying, “Whether we have sinned willingly or unwillingly, forgive”; that is, we first remember them, and then ask forgiveness; so it happened here too. Where did Christ do this? Hear him saying, “And for them I sanctify myself.” See, he bore up the sins; he took them from men, and bore them up to the Father, not so that he might decree anything against them, but so that he might forgive them. “He will appear a second time, apart from sin, to those who eagerly wait for him, for salvation.” What is “apart from sin”? Not taking away sins; nor will he come a second time because of sin, so as to die again; for not even when he died once did he die as owing death. How will he appear? “As punishing,” one says. But he did not say this, but the bright thing: “He will appear apart from sin to those who eagerly wait for him, for salvation,” so that there would no longer be need of a sacrifice to save them, but this would be done from works. “For the law, having a shadow of the good things to come,” he says, “not the very image of the realities”; that is, not the truth itself. For as long as one only traces the colors as in an outline, it is a sort of shadow; but when one lays on the bloom and fills in the colors, then it becomes an image. Such a thing was the law too. “For the law,” he says, “having a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the realities,” that is, of the sacrifice, of the forgiveness, “can never, by the same sacrifices which they offer continually year by year, make perfect those who draw near; otherwise would they not have ceased to be offered, because [the worshipers] would have had no more consciousness of sins? But in them there is a reminder of sins year by year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. Therefore, coming into the world, he says, Sacrifice and offering you did not wish, but a body you prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you took no pleasure. Then I said, See, I have come (in the scroll of the book it is written of me) to do your will, O God. Saying above that sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not wish, nor took pleasure in them, which are offered according to the law, then he said, See, I have come to do your will, O God. He takes away the first, so that he may establish the second.” Do you see again the abundance? This sacrifice, he says, is one, but those many; for because of …

For why, tell me, were many needed, when one was sufficient? So the many, and the continual offering, show that they were never cleansed. For just as a remedy, when it is strong and productive of health and able to remove the whole disease, does everything when applied once; and what, applied once, accomplishes everything shows its strength by no longer being applied, and this is its work, that it is no longer applied; but if it is always applied, this is plainly a sign that it has had no strength; for it is the virtue of a remedy to be applied once, and not often; so too here. For why are they always being treated with the same sacrifices? For if they had been freed from all their sins, the sacrifices would not have been offered every day; for they had been appointed to be offered always for the whole people, both in the evening and in the day. So what was done was an accusation of sins, and not a loosing of sins, an accusation of weakness, not a display of strength. For since the first had no strength, a second was offered; and since this accomplished nothing, another again; so it was a conviction of sins. The offering, then, was a conviction of sins; but its being always, a conviction of weakness. But in Christ’s case the contrary: he was offered once, and sufficed forever. And he rightly called those things copies; so they have only the form, not the power also; just as in the case of portraits, the portrait has the form of the man, not his strength. So the truth and the type have something in common with each other; for the form is equal, but the power no longer. So too with heaven and with the tabernacle: the form was equal, for they were holy; but the power and the rest were not the same. What is, “He has been manifested for the setting aside of sin through his sacrifice”? What is setting aside? That is, contempt; for sin no longer has boldness; for it has been set aside. How? Though it ought to have exacted punishment, it did not exact it; that is, it suffered violence; when it expected to destroy all, then it was destroyed. “Through his sacrifice,” he says, “he has been manifested,” that is, he was manifested to God and drew near. Do not, then, because the priest did this many times in the year, think that it happened simply, and not because of weakness; for if not because of weakness, why was it done at all? For when there are no wounds, the one who cares for them has no further need of remedies. For this reason, he says, he commanded them to be offered always because of the weakness, and so that there might be a remembrance of sins. What then? Do we not offer every day? We offer, but making a remembrance of his death; and this is one, and not many. How one, and not many? Since it was offered once, like that one brought into the Holy of Holies. This is a type of that, and this of that; for we always offer the same one, not now one lamb and tomorrow another, but always the same; so the sacrifice is one. Otherwise, by this reasoning, since it is offered in many places, are there also many Christs? Not at all, but Christ is one everywhere, complete here and complete there, one body. Just as, then, being offered in many places he is one body and not many bodies, so too there is one sacrifice. Our high priest is he who offered the sacrifice that cleanses us. That one we offer now too, the one offered then, the inexhaustible one. This is done for a remembrance of what was done then: “For do this,” he says, “in remembrance of me.” We do not make another sacrifice, as the high priest did then, but always the same; or rather we make a remembrance of a sacrifice.

But since I have mentioned this sacrifice, I wish to say a few words to you who are initiated, few in measure, but having great strength and profit; for what is said is not ours, but the divine Spirit’s. What is it, then? Many partake of this sacrifice once in the whole year, others twice, others many times. Our word, then, is to all; not to those here only, but also to those who sit in the desert; for they partake once a year, and often even once in two years. What then? Whom shall we approve? Those who partake once? Those often? Those seldom? Neither those once, nor those often, nor those seldom, but those with a clean conscience, those with a pure heart, those with a blameless life. Let such always approach; but let those who are not such not approach even once. Why? Because they receive judgment on themselves, and condemnation and punishment and vengeance. And do not wonder; for just as food, though nourishing by nature, if it falls upon a disordered stomach, ruins and corrupts everything and becomes an occasion of disease, so too with these awesome mysteries. Do you enjoy a spiritual table, a royal table, and again defile your mouth with mire? Do you anoint it with ointment, and again fill it with stench? Tell me, I beg you, when you partake of communion after a year, do you think the forty days enough for you for the cleansing of the sins of the whole time? And again, when a week has passed, do you give yourself up to your former ways? Tell me, if, having recovered for forty days from a long illness, you again gave yourself up to those foods that cause disease, would you not have lost even your former toil? Plainly so. For if natural things change, much more those of the will. I mean, for example: by nature we see, and we have eyes healthy by nature; but often from an ill habit our power of sight is harmed. If, then, things that are from nature change, will not above all those that are from the will? Do you give forty days to the health of the soul, perhaps not even forty, and expect to propitiate God? You are joking, man. I say these things not to keep you from your one yearly approach, but rather wishing you to approach the holy things continually. That is why the priest too then cries out, calling the holy, and by this cry examines all for blemish, so that no one may approach unprepared. For just as with a flock, where many sheep are healthy [but others diseased, the diseased must be separated] from the healthy, so too in the church, since some sheep are healthy and others diseased, through this cry the priest separates these from those, going round everywhere by this most awesome cry, and calling and drawing the holy. For since it is not possible for one who is a man to know the things of his neighbor (“for who among men knows the things of a man,” he says, “except the spirit of the man which is in him?”), he lets out this cry after the whole sacrifice has been completed, so that no one may come to the spiritual fountain at random and as it happens. For with a flock too (for nothing prevents using the same example again), we shut the sick ones up inside and keep them in the dark, and give them other food, not allowing them to share either pure air or fresh grass or the spring outside. Here too, then, this cry is in place of a kind of bond. You cannot say, “I did not know; I was ignorant that danger attended the thing”; for Paul above all testified to this. But will you say, “I did not read it”? This is not a defense, but even a charge; you go into church every day, and are you still ignorant of this?

But so that you may not have even this excuse, for this reason, with a great voice, an awesome cry, like a herald raising his hand on high, standing high, visible to all, and crying out loudly in that awesome silence, the priest calls some and keeps others away, doing this not with his hand but with his tongue, more plainly than with a hand. For that voice, falling on our hearing, like a hand thrusts out and casts away some, and brings in and presents others. Tell me, I beg you, in the Olympic games does not the herald stand crying loudly and on high, “Does anyone accuse this man,” saying, “of being a slave, a thief, of wicked ways?” And yet those contests are not of the soul nor of good character, but of strength and body. If, then, where there is exercise of bodies there is great examination of character, how much more here, where the soul contends wholly? Our herald, then, stands now too, not holding each one by the head and leading him forward, but holding all together by the head within; he does not set other accusers against them, but themselves against themselves; for he does not say, “Does anyone accuse this man?”, but what? “If anyone accuses himself.” For when he says, “The holy things for the holy,” he says this: If anyone is not holy, let him not approach. He does not simply say “clean of sins,” but “holy”; for it is not only freedom from sins that makes a man holy, but also the presence of the Spirit and the wealth of good works. I wish you, he says, not only to be freed from mire, but also to be white and beautiful. For if the Babylonian king, choosing young men from the captivity, chose those fair in form and beautiful in appearance, much more must we who stand at the royal table be fair in form, in the form of the soul, having golden adornment, pure raiment, royal shoes, the face of the soul comely, the golden adornment put about it, the girdle of truth. Let such a one approach, and touch the royal cups. But if someone clothed in rags, filthy, squalid, wished to come to the royal table, see how much he will suffer, the forty days not being enough to wash away what has been done wrong in all the time. For if gehenna is not enough, though it is eternal (for this is why it is eternal), much less this short time. For we have not shown a strong repentance, but a weak one. Eunuchs above all should stand by the king; eunuchs, I mean, those white in mind, having no filth nor spot, lofty in mind, having the eye of the soul gentle and sharp-sighted, quick to turn and lively, not drowsy nor slack, full of great freedom, far from shamelessness and recklessness, wakeful, healthy, neither very gloomy and downcast nor dissipated and loose. We are masters of fashioning this eye and making it sharp-sighted and beautiful. For when we lead it not to the smoke nor to the dust (for all human things are such), but to the light breeze, to the clear air, to the things on high and lofty and full of great quiet and purity and great delight, [nourishing it] with such a sight. Have you seen covetousness, and someone having great wealth? Do not lead your eye there; the thing is mire, it is smoke, an evil vapor, darkness and great straitness, and the choking of cares. Have you seen a man practicing righteousness, content with his own, and having great breadth of ease, anxious about nothing, caring for nothing of the things here? Set your eye there, and lift it up; and you will make it much more beautiful and brighter, feasting it not on the flowers of the earth but on those of virtue, on self-control, on gentleness, and on all the others. For nothing so troubles the eye as an evil conscience: “My eye,” he says, “was troubled by anger”; nothing so darkens it. Free it from this outrage, and you will make it bright and strong, always fed with good hopes. And may it be that we all fashion this and the other activities of the soul such as Christ wishes, so that, having become worthy of the head that is set over us, we may depart where he wishes. For he says, “I wish that where I am, they too may be with me, that they may see my glory”; which may we all enjoy, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father and to the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“Above, when he said, ‘Sacrifice and offering and whole burnt offerings and offerings for sin you did not desire, nor did you take pleasure in them’ (these are offered according to the law), then he said, ‘See, I have come to do your will, O God.’ He takes away the first in order to establish the second. By that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And every priest stands day by day ministering and offering the same sacrifices many times, which can never take away sins; but this man, having offered one sacrifice for sins, sat down forever at the right hand of God, from then on waiting until his enemies are made a footstool for his feet.” In what came before he showed that the sacrifices were useless for complete cleansing, and that they were a type; and [someone might ask] this: if they are types, how is it that, when the reality is present, they have not ceased or given way, but are still performed? This very point he works out here, showing that they are no longer performed, not even as a type, for God does not accept them. And he shows this not from the New [Testament] but from the prophets, bringing in the strongest testimony from of old, that they come to an end and cease, and that they [the Jews] do everything in vain, always resisting the Holy Spirit. And he shows, more than was needed, that they ceased not only now, but at the very coming of Christ, or rather even before his coming. And how is it that Christ did not abolish them last of all, but they were abolished first, and then he came? They ceased first, and then he himself arrived. For so that they might not say, “Even without this we could have pleased God by those sacrifices,” he waited until they had been proved [useless], and then he himself arrived. “For sacrifice,” he says, “and offering you did not desire.” By this he did away with all of them; and having spoken generally, he also speaks specifically: “Whole burnt offerings and offerings for sin you did not take pleasure in.” An “offering” was everything apart from the sacrifice. “Then I said, ‘See, I have come.’” About whom was this said? About no one else but Christ. Here he brings no charge against those who offer, showing that it is not because of their wickedness that he does not accept them, as he says elsewhere, but because the thing had at last been proved and made plain to have no force, nor any season fitting it. What then does this have to do with the sacrifices being offered many times? It is clear, he says, not only from their being offered many times that they are weak and accomplished nothing, but also from God's not accepting them, as unprofitable and useless. Showing this very thing, he says elsewhere too, “If you had desired sacrifice, I would have given it.” So by this too he shows that he does not desire it. So then it is not the sacrifices that are the will of God, but their abolition; therefore they sacrifice against his will. What is “to do your will”? To give myself up, he says; this is the will of God. “By which will we have been sanctified.” By this he shows in another way too that it is not the sacrifices that cleanse people, but the will of God. So then to sacrifice is not the will of God. And why are you surprised if it is not the will of God now, when it was not his will even from the beginning? “For who required these things,” he says, “from your hands?” How then did he himself command it? By condescension; just as Paul too is seen saying, “I wish all people to be as I myself am” in self-control; and again, giving counsel elsewhere, he says, “I wish the younger women to marry, to bear children.” He sets down two wishes, but the two are not both his own, even though he gives the command; but the one is his own, which is why he states it without giving a reason; the other is not his own, even though he wishes it, which is why it is given with a reason. For he first accused them of having grown wanton against Christ, and then says, “I wish the younger women to marry, to bear children.” So here too, condescending, he makes provision; it was not his primary will that the sacrifices should take place. So too when he speaks about death: “I do not wish the death of the sinner, but that he should turn and live”; and elsewhere he says that he not only wished this but even desired it; and yet these are opposite to each other, for desire is an intensified wish. How then do you not wish it, and elsewhere desire it, which is a sign of wishing it intensely? This one can say here too. “By which will we have been sanctified,” he says. How we have been sanctified he himself will explain, adding: “Through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And every priest stands day by day ministering and [offering] the same [sacrifices…]” … [for standing is a sign of ministering]; therefore sitting is a sign of being ministered to. “But this man, having offered one sacrifice for sins, sat down forever at the right hand of God, from then on waiting until his enemies are made a footstool for his feet. For by one offering he has perfected forever those who are being sanctified. And the Holy Spirit also bears witness to us.” He said that those [sacrifices] are not offered; he drew the conclusion from what is written [and] from what is unwritten; and besides, he brought forward an explicit prophetic saying, “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire.” He said that he forgave sins; again he confirms this too from written testimony: “For the Holy Spirit,” he says, “also bears witness to us. For after saying, ‘This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws on their hearts and write them on their minds, and I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more.’ Where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin.” Therefore he forgave sins when he gave the covenant; and he gave the covenant through the sacrifice. If then he forgave sins through the one sacrifice, there is no longer need of a second. “He sat down at the right hand of God, from then on waiting.” And why the delay? “Until his enemies are put under his feet. For by one offering,” he says, “he has perfected forever those who are being sanctified.” But perhaps someone might say, “And why did he not put them there at once?” Because of the believers who were going to be born and come into being. How then is it clear that they will be put there? From his saying that he sat down. He reminded them again of that testimony which says, “Until he puts his enemies under his feet.” And his enemies are the Jews. Then, since he had said, “Until his enemies are put under his feet,” and they were greatly pressing [for it], for this reason he sets down everything that follows, all that he discusses about faith. But who are the enemies, if not all the unbelievers, the demons? For not only the Jews. And he hints at the completeness of the subjection by “under his feet.” Let us not, then, be among the enemies; for not only those are enemies, the unbelievers and Jews, but also those who are full of an unclean life: “For the mind of the flesh is hostility toward God; for it does not submit to God's law, nor indeed can it.” What then, someone says: is this not a ground of accusation? Very much so indeed; for the wicked man, as long as he is wicked, cannot submit; he can, however, change and become good.

Let us then cast out the fleshly ways of thinking. And which are fleshly? All those that make the body flourish and live in comfort but harm the soul; for example, wealth, luxury, glory: all these belong to the flesh; the love of bodies [too]. Let us not, then, love having more, but always pursue poverty; for it is a great good. “But it makes one humble,” someone says, “and of no account.” This is just what we need; for this contributes much to us. “Poverty,” it says, “humbles a man”; and again Christ: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” Are you grieved, then, because you have a road that leads you by the hand to virtue? Do you not know that this gives us great boldness? “But the wisdom of the poor man,” it says, “is despised”; and again someone else says, “Give me neither wealth nor poverty”; and, “Deliver me from the furnace of poverty.” And again, if wealth and poverty are from the Lord, how is poverty an evil, or wealth? Why then were these things said? They were said in the Old [Testament], where much was made of wealth, where poverty was much despised, where the one was a curse and the other a blessing. But no longer now. Do you want to hear the praises of poverty? Christ pursued it, and says, “But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” And again he said to the disciples, “Do not acquire gold or silver or two tunics.” And Paul wrote, “As having nothing, and yet possessing everything.” And Peter said to the man lame from birth, “Silver and gold I do not have.” And in the Old [Testament] itself, where wealth was admired, who, tell me, were the admirable ones? Was it not Elijah, who had nothing but his sheepskin cloak? Was it not Elisha? Was it not John? Let no one, then, be humble because of poverty: it is not poverty that makes one humble, but wealth, which compels one to need many people and forces one to be beholden to many. And what was poorer than Jacob, tell me, who said, “If the Lord gives me bread to eat and clothing to put on”? Were Elijah and John without boldness? Did not the one rebuke Ahab, the other Herod? The latter said, “It is not lawful for you to have the wife of Philip your brother”; and Elijah said to Ahab with boldness, “It is not I who trouble Israel, but you and your father's house.” Do you see that it is this, poverty, that above all produces boldness? For the rich man is a slave, liable to loss and laying himself open to anyone who wishes to do him harm; but the man who has nothing fears neither confiscation nor sentence. If, then, poverty made people lacking in boldness, Christ would not have sent the disciples out with poverty for a task requiring great boldness. For the poor man is very strong, and has nothing through which he can be wronged or suffer harm. The rich man, however, becomes easy to seize from every side; and it is just as when someone could easily catch a man dragging many long ropes behind him, but could not easily take hold of a naked man. So it happens here too with the rich man: slaves, gold, fields, countless affairs, countless cares, troubles, necessities make him easy prey for everyone. Let no one, then, any longer think poverty a cause of dishonor. For if virtue is present, all the wealth of the world is not even mud, not even a straw, compared with it. Let us, then, pursue it, if we wish to enter the kingdom of heaven. “For sell your possessions,” he says, “and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven”; and again, “It is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Do you see that even if it is not present, one must draw it to oneself? So great a good is poverty; for it is a guide by the hand on the road that leads to heaven, an athlete's anointing, a great and wonderful training, a calm harbor. “But I need many things,” someone says, “and I do not wish to accept a favor from anyone.” But in this too the rich man is worse off than you. For you perhaps ask a favor for food; but he for countless things … for his greed. So the rich are the ones who need many people. Why do I say many? Often even people unworthy of them; for example, they often find themselves in need of soldiers in the ranks and of slaves. But the poor man does not need even the emperor himself; and if he does need him, he is admired because he brought himself to this when he could have been rich. Let no one, then, blame poverty as the cause of countless evils, and let no one contradict Christ, who declared it to be the perfection of virtue, saying, “If you wish to be perfect.” For this he both said in words, and showed by deeds, and taught through his disciples. Let us pursue poverty, then; for it is a very great good for those who are sober. Perhaps some of those who hear take it as an ill omen. I do not doubt it; this disease is widespread among most people, and the tyranny of money is so great that they cannot bear even a renunciation of it in words, but take it as an ill omen. Such things are far from the Christian soul; for nothing is richer than the man who chooses poverty willingly and with eagerness. How? I will tell you; and, if you wish, I will prove the man who willingly chooses poverty richer even than the emperor himself. For the emperor needs many things, and is anxious, and fears that provisions for the army may run short; but this man has everything in abundance, and fears for nothing, and if he does fear, not for so much. Who then, tell me, is rich: the man who every day makes demands, and is eager to collect much, and fears that it may some day run short, or the man who collects nothing and lives in great abundance and needs nothing? For it is virtue and the fear of God that give boldness, not money; for money even enslaves. “For gifts and presents,” it says, “blind the eyes of the wise, and like a muzzle in the mouth turn away rebukes.” See how that poor man Peter punished the rich Ananias. Was not the one rich and the other poor? But see him speaking with authority and saying, “Tell me, did you sell the field for so much?” and the other answering with deference, “Yes, for so much.” “And who will grant me,” someone says, “to be like Peter?” You may be like Peter, if you are willing to throw away what you have: scatter, give to the poor, follow Christ, and you will be such a man. “How? He worked miracles,” someone says. Is it this, then, tell me, that made Peter admirable, or the boldness that came from his way of life? Do you not hear Christ saying, “Do not rejoice that the demons are subject to you”? “If you wish to be perfect, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” Hear what Peter too says: “Silver and gold I do not have; but what I have, this I give you.” If someone has silver and gold, he does not have those [other] things. “What then,” someone says, “of the fact that many have neither the one nor the other?” Because they are poor unwillingly; since those who are poor willingly have all good things. For even if they do not raise the dead or the lame, they have what is greater than all: boldness toward God. They will hear on that day that blessed voice which says, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father.” What is better than this? “Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in; naked and you clothed me; sick and in prison and you visited me. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” Let us flee greed, then, that we may attain the kingdom of heaven; let us feed the poor, that we may feed Christ, that we may become his fellow heirs, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“Having therefore, brothers, boldness [to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the way] which he opened for us, new and living, through the curtain, that is, his flesh, and [having a great priest] over the house of [God, let us draw near with a true heart, in full assurance] of faith, [our] hearts [sprinkled clean] from [an evil] conscience and our body washed with pure water, let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering.” Having shown the difference of the high priest, and of the sacrifices, and of the tabernacle, and of the covenant, and of the promise, and that the gap is great, since the one set is temporary and the other eternal, the one near to vanishing and the other abiding, the one cheap and the other perfect, the one types and the other reality (“For not according to the law of a fleshly commandment,” he says, “but according to the power of an indestructible life”; and again, “You are a priest forever”; see the perpetuity of the priest); and about the covenant: “That one,” he says, “is old” (“for what is becoming obsolete and growing old is near to vanishing”), but this one is new, and has forgiveness of sins, while that one has nothing of the kind: “For the law perfected nothing,” he says; and again, “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire”; and that one is made with hands, but this one not made with hands; and that one has the blood of goats, but this one the Master's; and that one has the priest standing, but this one sitting: since, then, all those things are lesser and these greater, for this reason he says, “Having therefore, brothers, boldness.” Boldness from where? From the forgiveness. For just as sins produce shame, he says, so our having had all of them forgiven produces boldness; and not only this, but also our having become fellow heirs and enjoying so great a love. “To enter the holy places.” What does he call an entrance here? Heaven, and the access to spiritual things. “Which he opened for us,” that is, which he prepared and which he began; for “opening” (ἐγκαινισμός) is the name for the beginning of a use; which he prepared, he says, and by which he himself walked. “A way new and living.” Here he indicates the fullness of the hope. “New,” he says. He presses to show that they have received all the greater things: now the gates of heaven were opened, which did not happen even in Abraham's case. And well does he say, “A way new and living”; for the first way was one of death, leading to Hades, but this one is of life. And he did not say “of life,” but called it “living,” showing in this way that it abides. “Through the curtain,” he says, “that is, his flesh.” This flesh first cut that way for him, which he says he “opened,” in that he himself deigned to walk by it. And he fittingly called the flesh a curtain; for when it was lifted on high, then the things in heaven appeared. “Let us draw near,” he says, “with a true heart.” To what are we to draw near? To the holy things, by faith, by spiritual worship. “With a true heart, in full assurance of faith”; that is, since nothing is visible: neither the priest, nor the sacrifice, nor the altar is seen. And yet that priest was not visible either, but he stood inside, while they were all outside, the whole people. But here he shows not only this, that the priest entered the holy places (for he makes this clear by saying, “And a great priest over the house of God”), but that we too enter. That is why he says, “In full assurance of faith.” For it is possible to believe while doubting, as there are many even now who say that there is a resurrection for some but not for others. But this is not full assurance of faith; for one must believe as about things seen, and much more so. For here it is possible to be mistaken even about the things seen, but there not; and here we trust to sense, but there to the Spirit. “Our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience.” Here he shows that not faith alone, but also a virtuous life is required, and to be conscious of nothing evil in ourselves. For the holy places do not receive those who are not so disposed, with full assurance; for they are holy, and the holy of holies. Therefore no profane person will enter here. They sprinkled the body, we the conscience; so that even now one may be sprinkled, but with virtue itself. “And our body washed with pure water.” Here he speaks of the washing [of baptism], which is a cleansing not of bodies but of the soul. “For he who promised is faithful.” And what is he faithful in having promised? That we must depart there and enter the kingdom. Do not, then, be curious about anything, nor demand reasonings; our affairs need faith. “And let us consider,” he says, “one another to provoke to love and good works, not abandoning our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near.” And again elsewhere: “The Lord is near; do not be anxious about anything.” “For now salvation is nearer to us”; and again, “The time has been shortened from now on.” What is “Not abandoning our own assembling together”? He knows that there is great strength from coming together and from assembling. “For where two or three,” he says, “are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them”; and again, “That they may be one, as we also are one”; and again, “The heart and soul of all was one.” And not only for this reason, but also because love grows through assembling; and when love grows, the things of God must follow. “And prayer was being made earnestly,” it says, “by the people.” “As is the habit of some.” Here he not only exhorted but also found fault. “And let us consider,” he says, “one another to provoke to love and good works.” He knows that this too comes from their assembling. For as iron sharpens iron, so too companionship increases love. For if a stone rubbed against a stone gives off fire, how much more a soul mingled with a soul? See: he does not say, “to rivalry,” but “to provoke to love.” What is “to provoke to love”? … to love and to be loved. And he adds, “and good works,” … to be stirred to emulation; and rightly. For if doing has greater force than speaking for teaching, he says, you too have many teachers among the multitude who do this by their works. What is “Let us draw near with a true heart”? That is, without hypocrisy: “For woe to a fearful heart and slack hands.” “Let there be no falsehood among you,” he says; let us not say one thing and think another, for this is falsehood; nor let us be faint-hearted, for this is not of a true heart; for faint-heartedness comes from not believing. And how will this be? If we give ourselves full assurance through faith. “Our hearts sprinkled clean.” Why did he not say “cleansed,” but [“sprinkled”]? … wishing to show [the difference of the sprinklings], and that the one is God's part, the other ours. For to wash and sprinkle the conscience is God's; but to draw near with truth and in full assurance of faith is ours. Then he also gives strength to faith from the truthfulness of him who promised. What is “And our body washed with pure water”? He speaks either of water that makes us clean, or of water that has no blood. Then he adds the perfect thing, love: “Not abandoning,” he says, “our own assembling together,” which some, he says, do, and split up the gatherings; this … “to provoke to love.” What is “Let us consider one another”? For instance, if someone is virtuous, let us imitate him, let us look to him, so as to love and be loved; for good works come from love.

Coming together is a great good; for it makes love warmer, and from love all good things are born; for there is nothing good that does not come about through love. Let us, then, confirm it toward one another; for love is the fulfillment of the law. We need no labors, no sweat, if we love one another: it is a road that by itself carries us to virtue. For just as on a highway, if someone finds the beginning, he is guided by it and needs no one to lead him by the hand, so also with love: only take hold of the beginning, and at once you are led by the hand and directed by it. “Love,” it says, “is patient, is kind, does not reckon up evil.” If someone considers how he is disposed toward himself, let him be disposed in the same way toward his neighbor. No one envies himself; everyone prays for all good things for himself, prefers himself to all, wishes to do everything for his own sake. If, then, we are disposed this way toward others too, all troubles are undone; there are no enmities, there is no greed; for who would choose to cheat himself? No one; rather the very opposite. Let us, then, hold all things in common, and not cease assembling ourselves; and if we do this, resentment will have no room. For who would choose to bear a grudge against himself? Who would choose to be angry with himself? Do we not pardon ourselves most of all? If we are so disposed toward our neighbors too, there will never be any resentment. “And how is it possible,” someone says, “to love one's neighbor as oneself?” If others had not done it, you would rightly think it impossible; but if they did, it is clear that it is from indolence that it does not happen with us. Besides, Christ commands nothing impossible, since many have even gone beyond his commands. Who then did this? Paul, Peter, the whole choir of the saints. But if I say that they loved their neighbors, I say nothing great: they loved their enemies as no one would love those of one mind with him. For who of us would choose to go to Gehenna for those of one mind with him, when he was about to go to the kingdom? No one; but Paul chose this for his enemies, for those who stoned him, who scourged him. What pardon, then, will we have, what excuse, if we do not show toward our friends even the smallest part of the love that Paul showed toward his enemies? And before him the blessed Moses wished [to be blotted out of God's book] for his enemies; and David, seeing those who rose up against him being destroyed, says, “I the shepherd have sinned, and these, what have they done?” And when he had Saul in his hands, he did not wish to kill him, but kept him safe, and that when he himself was going to be in danger. If these things were so in the Old [Testament], what pardon will we have, who live our life under the New, and do not attain even the same measure as they? For if, unless our righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees and scribes, we shall not enter the kingdom of heaven, how shall we enter when we have even less than they? “Love your enemies,” he says, “and you will be like your Father who is in heaven.” Love your enemy, then; for it is not him you benefit, but yourself. How? By doing this you become equal to God. If he is loved by you, he has gained nothing great, for he was loved by a fellow slave; but if you love your fellow slave, you have gained greatly, for you become like God. Do you see that it is not to him you do a favor, but to yourself? For he sets the prize not for him but for you. “What then if he is wicked?” someone says. The greater the reward. You even owe him thanks for his wickedness, though he remain evil after receiving countless kindnesses. For if he were not very evil, your reward would not have been greatly increased. So the reason for not loving, the saying that he is wicked, is itself a reason for loving. Take away the antagonist, and you take away the occasion for the crowns. Do you not see how athletes train by filling sacks with sand? But you need not contrive this: life is full of those who train you and make you strong. Do you not see that trees too, the more they are shaken by the winds, the stronger and thicker they become? So we too, if we are long-suffering, will also be strong. “For a long-suffering man,” it says, “is great in understanding, but the faint-hearted is exceedingly foolish.” Do you see how great is the praise of the one? Do you see how great the charge against the other? “Exceedingly foolish,” that is, utterly. Let us not, then, be petty toward one another; for this comes not from enmity but from having a small soul; for if the soul is strong, it will bear everything easily, and nothing will be able to sink it, but it will bring it to calm harbors. May we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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 if we sin willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer] remains a sacrifice [for sins], but a fearful expectation of judgment and a fury of fire that will consume [the adversaries].” Trees that have been planted and have enjoyed the farmer's hands and all other care, if they give no return for the labor, are pulled up by the roots and handed over to the fire. Something of this kind happens also with illumination. For when Christ has planted us, and we have enjoyed the spiritual watering, if we then show a fruitless life, the fire of Gehenna awaits us, and unquenchable flame. Paul, then, having exhorted to love and to the bearing of fruit in good works, and having urged them on from the more encouraging considerations (which were these? that we have an entrance into the holy places, which he opened for us as a new way), does this same thing again from the more somber ones, speaking thus. For after saying, “Not abandoning our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near” (for this too is enough for encouragement), he added, “For if we sin willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth.” Good works are needed, he says, and very much needed: “For if we sin willfully after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins.” What he says is this: you were cleansed, you were freed from charges, you became a son. If, then, you return to your former vomit, disinheritance awaits you again, and fire, and all such things; for there is no second sacrifice. Here again those who do away with repentance attack us, and those who hesitate to come to baptism: the latter saying that it is not safe for them to come to baptism, if indeed there is no second forgiveness; the former claiming that it is not safe to give the mysteries to those who have sinned, if indeed there is no second forgiveness. What then shall we say to both? That he does not say this here with such an aim, nor does he do away with repentance or with propitiation through repentance, nor does he push the one who has stumbled down and cast him into despair; he is not so much an enemy of our salvation. But what? He does away with a second washing. For he did not say, “There is no longer repentance,” nor, “There is no longer forgiveness,” but, “There is no longer a sacrifice,” that is, there is no longer a second cross; for this is what he calls a sacrifice. “For by one sacrifice,” he says, “he has perfected forever those who are being sanctified”; not like the Jewish ones, nor many times. For this is why he spoke so much, up and down, about the sacrifice, that it is one and only one: not wishing to make this alone clear, that it differs from the Jewish ones in this, but also to make them more secure, so that they no longer expect another sacrifice in the manner of the Jewish law. “For if we sin willfully,” he says. Do you see how lenient he is? “If we sin willfully,” he says; so that there is pardon for those who sin unwillingly. “After the knowledge of the truth”: he means either of Christ or of all the doctrines. “There no longer remains a sacrifice for sins. But what? A fearful expectation of judgment and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.” By “adversaries” he means not only the unbelievers, but also those who act contrary to virtue; or that the same fire will take hold of the household members as of the adversaries. Then, showing its devouring nature, he as it were gave it a soul, saying, “a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.” For just as a wild beast that is provoked and furiously enraged and maddened would not stop until it seized someone and devoured him, so too that fire, as though goaded by jealous fury, does not let go of those it seizes, but gnaws and tears them apart. Then he adds the reason for the threat, that it is fitting, that it is just; which contributes to belief, when we show that it happens justly. “For anyone who has set aside the law of Moses,” he says, “dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses.” “Without mercy,” he says: so there is no pardon, no pity there; and yet the law is Moses'; for he himself laid down most of it. What is “on the testimony of two or three”? If two or three bear witness, he says, they paid the penalty at once. If, then, under the Old [Testament], where the law of Moses is set aside, there is such punishment, how much more here? That is why he speaks thus: “How much worse punishment, do you think, will be thought due to the one who has trampled on the Son of God, and counted the blood of the covenant common, and insulted the Spirit of grace?”

And how does someone trample on the Son of God? When one who partakes of him in the mysteries commits sin, tell me, has he not trampled on him? Has he not despised him? For just as we take no account of things trampled underfoot, so also those who sin took no account of Christ; that is why they sinned in this way. You have become the body of Christ, and you give yourself to the devil to trample you? “And counted the blood,” he says, “common.” What is “common”? Unclean, or having nothing more than other things. “And insulted the Spirit of grace.” For whoever does not accept a benefit insults the benefactor. He made you a son, and you want to become a slave? He came to dwell with you, and you bring evil thoughts in upon yourself? Christ wished to be settled with you, and you trample him through gluttony, through drunkenness? Let us listen, we who partake of the mysteries unworthily; let us listen, we who approach that table unworthily: “Do not give what is holy,” he says, “to the dogs, lest they trample it under their feet,” that is, lest they despise it, lest they spurn it. But he did not say this, but what was more fearful than this; for he grips their souls with fear; for this too is able to turn people back, no less than encouragement. And at the same time he both shows the difference and sets the punishment and the judgment before them, as though the matter were plain. “How much worse punishment, do you think,” he says, “will he be thought worthy of?” Here he seems to me to be hinting at the mysteries too. Then he also brings in a testimony, saying, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. For it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’; and again, ‘The Lord will judge his people.’” “Let us fall,” it says, “into the hands of the Lord, and not into the hands of men.” But if you do not repent, you will fall into the hands of God; that is fearful; to fall into the hands of men is nothing. When we see someone punished here, he says, let us not be afraid at things present, but shudder at things to come. “For as his mercy is, so is his wrath, and his fury will rest upon sinners.” At the same time he also hints at something else here, by saying, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” This is said about the enemies, those who do evil, not those who suffer evil. Here he also comforts them, all but saying: God abides forever and lives, so that even if they do not receive [their due] now, they will receive it later. It is they who ought to groan, not we; for we fall into their hands, but they into God's. For it is not the one who suffers that suffers harm, but the one who does it; nor is it the one who receives a benefit that is benefited, but the benefactor. Knowing this, then, let us be patient in suffering evil and ready in doing good. And this will be, if we despise money and glory. The one who has stripped off these passions is freer than all people, and better off than the very man who wears the purple. Do you not see how many evils arise through money? I do not mean how many through greed, but in the attachment to it; for example, if someone loses money, he lives a life harder than any death. Why do you grieve, O man? Why do you weep? Because God has freed you from excessive guarding? Because you do not sit trembling and afraid? Then, if someone tied you to a treasure, ordering you to sit there continually and keep watch over other people's goods, you grieve; [and when you have bound yourself with the heaviest chains, and then] have been freed from the slavery, you grieve? Truly griefs and joys are matters of opinion; for we guard these things as though we had what belongs to others. Now my words are for the women. Often a woman has had a garment woven of gold, and she shakes it, wraps it in linen, keeps it securely, trembles for it, and does not enjoy it; for either she dies or she is widowed; or, even if none of these things happens, she fears that if she wears it out by constant use she may deprive herself of it; and though no one else deprives her of it, she deprives herself of it by her thrift. “But she hands it on to another.” But not even this is certain; and even if she should hand it on, the other woman again will use it in the same way. And if anyone searches the houses, he will find the most valuable garments and the other choice things held in greater honor, attended like living masters. For she does not use them continually, but fears and trembles, driving away moths and the other things that usually eat them, and [laying] most of them in … [not letting everyone be] thought worthy of the sight of them, but often arranging them carefully herself with her husband. Was it not with good reason, tell me, that Paul called greed idolatry? For as much honor as those people show to their idols, so much these show to their garments, to their gold. How long shall we stir up the mire? How long shall we be nailed to the clay and the brickmaking? For as they toiled for the king of the Egyptians, so we too toil for the devil, and are scourged with much harsher scourges. And do not condemn my words for exaggeration; for as much as the soul is better than the body, so much [are these scourges harder than those]. … every day, we are afraid, anxious, trembling. But if we are willing to groan, if we are willing to look up to God, he sends us not Moses nor Aaron, but his own Word, and compunction. This, then, having come and taken hold of our souls, will free us from the bitter slavery, will lead us out of Egypt, out of the unprofitable and vainly laboring zeal, out of the slavery that has no gain. They, at least, went out having received gold, the wages of their building; but we, nothing. And would that it were nothing! As it is, we too receive, not gold, but the evils of Egypt: sins and punishments and penalties. Let us learn, then, to be wronged, let us learn to be mistreated; this is the mark of a Christian. Let us despise gold garments, let us despise money, so that we may not despise our salvation; [let us despise money, and not despise] the soul; for it is the soul that is punished, the soul that pays the penalty; those things stay here, but the soul departs there. Why, why, tell me, do you cut yourself to pieces and not perceive it? These things I say to the greedy. But it is good to say to those who are cheated too: bear the cheating nobly; they destroy themselves, not you. [You they rob of money, but themselves they strip] of God's goodwill and help; and the one who is stripped of that, even if he clothes himself with all the wealth of the world, is poorer than all; just as, conversely, the one who is poorer than all, if he has this, is better off than all. “For the Lord,” it says, “is my shepherd, and I shall lack nothing.” Tell me now, if you had a husband, a great and admirable man, who loved you and cared for you greatly, and you then knew that he would live forever, and that you would not die before him, and that he would provide you with all his possessions in security, so that you could enjoy them as your own: would you have wished to acquire anything? If you had been stripped of everything, would you not have thought yourself richer for this? Why then do you mourn? Because you have no money? But consider that you have been relieved of the occasion of sins. Because you were deprived of property? But you have gained God's goodwill. “And how have I gained it?” someone says. He said, “Why do you not rather suffer wrong?” He said, “In everything give thanks.” He said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” Consider, then, how much goodwill you will enjoy if you have shown these things in deeds. For one thing only is required of us: to give thanks to God for everything; and we have everything in abundance. For example: you lost ten thousand pounds of gold? Give thanks to God at once, and you have gained a hundred thousand through that word and that thanksgiving. For tell me, when do you call Job blessed? When he had so many camels, and the flocks and the herds, or when he uttered that word, “The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away”? For this is why the devil inflicts losses on us, not merely to take away our money (for he knows that it is nothing), but so that through these things he may force us to say something blasphemous. So too in the case of the blessed Job, this is what he was eager for: not only to make him poor, but to show him a blasphemer. When, at any rate, he had stripped him of everything, see what he says to him through his wife: “Say some word against the Lord, and die.” And yet, you foul one, you stripped him of everything. “But this is not what I was eager for,” he says; “for I have not yet achieved what I did all this for; for I was eager to strip him of God's help; this is why I stripped him of his money too. This is what I want; that is nothing; if I do not have this, not only has he not been wronged at all, he has even been benefited.”

Do you see that even that wicked demon knows how great the loss in this matter is? That is why you also see him stitching the plot together through the wife. Listen, all you men who have wives who are in love with money and who force you to blaspheme God: remember Job. But let us see, if you please, his great gentleness, and how he silenced her. “Why,” he says, “have you spoken like one of the foolish women?” Truly “bad company corrupts good morals.” They always corrupt, but above all in misfortunes; then those who give bad advice have strength. For if even on its own the soul is ready for despair, how much more when there is an adviser too? Is it not pushed into the very pit? A wife is a great good, just as she is also a great evil. And see from where he tried to dig through the strong wall. For since the loss of his money did not overcome him, nor did that loss accomplish anything great, but he was proved to have spoken in vain when he said, “Surely he will bless you to your face,” for this reason he arms the wife against him. Do you see where he breathed [his attack]? But he gained nothing more even from this device. If, then, we too bear things thankfully, we shall also receive them back; and even if we do not receive them back, our reward will be greater. So it happened with that man of adamant too: when he had contended nobly, then [God] gave these things back to him; when he showed the devil that it was not for these things that he served him, then he gave them to him. For such is God: when he sees us not nailed to worldly things, then he gives them to us; when he sees us preferring spiritual things, then he also provides fleshly ones; but he does not give them before, so that we may not be torn away from the spiritual things. Sparing us, then, he does not give the fleshly things, so as to withdraw us from them even against our will. “No,” someone says, “if I receive them, I am filled and give thanks the more.” You lie, O man; for then above all you will become careless. “Why then,” someone says, “does he give to many?” And how is it clear that it is he who gives? “But who else,” someone says, “gives?” Their greed, their robbery. “How then does he allow these things to happen?” Just as he allows murders and thefts and violence. “What then will you say,” someone says, “about those who receive an inheritance from their fathers, who are full of countless evils? How does God let them enjoy these things?” Just as he lets thieves go, and murderers, and the other evildoers; for now is not the time of judgment, but of the best way of life. But what I have already said I say now too: they will pay a greater penalty when, having enjoyed all good things, they do not become better even so. For not all will be punished alike; those who remained wicked even with the benefits will be punished more heavily, but those [who did so] with poverty, not so. And to see that this is true, hear what he says to David: “Did I not give you all that was your master's?” When, then, you see a young man who has received his father's inheritance without labor and has remained wicked, know well that his punishment is increased and the penalty lies heavier on him. Let us not, then, envy these, but anyone who has inherited virtue, anyone who has gained spiritual wealth. “For woe,” it says, “to those who trust in their wealth”; and again, “Blessed are those who fear the Lord.” Which do you wish to be among, tell me? Surely among those who are called blessed. Envy these, then, not those, so that you may attain the good things stored up for them; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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 remember the former days, in which, after you were enlightened, you endured a great contest of sufferings: partly being made a public spectacle by reproaches and afflictions, and partly becoming partners of those who were so treated. For you sympathized with the prisoners, and accepted the plundering of your possessions with joy, knowing that you have for yourselves a better possession in heaven, and an abiding one.” The best physicians, when they have made a deep incision and increased the pains by the wound, soothing the suffering part and calming and reviving the troubled soul, do not go on to make another incision, but soothe even the one already made with gentle medicines that are able to remove most of the pain. This is what Paul too did … having pierced their souls and stung them with the remembrance of Gehenna, and having convinced them that whoever has insulted the grace of God must certainly perish, and having shown this from the laws of Moses, that they will perish, and [be punished] more severely … and having said, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God”: so that the soul, giving up through great fear, might not be swallowed up by grief, he comforts them with praises and encouragement, and brings them zeal from their own record. “For remember,” he says, “the former [days, in which, after you were enlightened, you endured a great contest] of sufferings.” Great is the encouragement that comes from deeds; for one who begins a thing ought to advance as he goes on. As if he said: when you were being brought in, when you were in the rank of disciples, you showed such eagerness, such nobility; but now no longer. And one who encourages encourages best in this way, from what is the hearers' own. And see: he did not simply say, “[a contest] you endured,” but with the addition, “great.” And he did not say “trials,” but “contest,” which is a name of praise and of the highest commendation. Then he also lists them in detail, broadening his speech and multiplying the praises. How? “Partly,” he says, “being made a public spectacle by reproaches and afflictions.” For reproach is a great thing for reaching the heart, and able to twist the soul and darken the reasoning. For hear what the prophet says: “My tears have become bread to me day and night, while they say to me every day, ‘Where is your God?’” And again: “If an enemy had reproached me, I would have borne it.” For since the human race is very vainglorious, it is for this reason easily caught by this. And he did not simply say, “by reproaches,” but this too with great intensity: “being made a public spectacle,” he says. For when someone is reproached privately, it is painful; but much more when it is before all. For consider how great an evil it was for those who had left the meanness of Judaism and gone over, as they thought, to the best way of life, and had despised the ways of their fathers, to suffer ill at the hands of their own kin, and to have no help at all. I cannot say, he says, that you suffered these things and were grieved, but rather that you rejoiced greatly. And he made this clear by saying, “And partly becoming partners of those who were so treated; for you sympathized with the prisoners.” And he brings the apostles themselves forward. Not only, he says, were you not ashamed in your own sufferings, but you even shared with the others who suffered these things. This too is the language of one encouraging them. He did not say, “You bore my afflictions, you shared with me,” but simply, “You sympathized with the prisoners.” Do you see that he speaks about himself and the others who were bound? So little did you think the bonds to be bonds; but like noble athletes, so you stood, that not only did you need no encouragement in your own trials, but you even became an encouragement to the others. “And [accepted] the plundering of your possessions [with joy …].” … [full assurance] of faith. Then he also gives the reason, encouraging them not only toward the contests, but also not to be shaken from the faith. For you already saw your [possession], which is not seen, as if it were seen; which was a mark of sincere faith, and you showed it by your very deeds. Now, to be plundered was perhaps due to the violence of those who plundered, and no one could have prevented it; so that this does not yet make clear that you endured the plundering for the sake of the faith. And yet even this is clear; for it was possible, if you had wished, not to be plundered, by not believing. But you did what is much greater than this: you bore such things even with joy; which was wholly apostolic, and worthy of those noble souls who rejoiced when they were scourged. “For they went away,” it says, “from the presence of the council rejoicing, that they had been counted worthy to be dishonored for his name.” And the one who bears it with joy shows that he has some reward, and that the thing is not a loss but a gain. And the word “accepted” shows their voluntary endurance. How then did you choose and accept it? “Knowing,” he says, “that you have for yourselves a better possession in heaven, and an abiding one.” What is “abiding”? Secure, not thus perishable…

Then, having praised them, he says, “Do not, then, throw away your boldness, which has a great reward.” What are you saying? He did not say, “You threw away your boldness; recover it,” so that they would not lose heart, but, “You have it; do not throw it away”; which cheered them the more and made them strong. “You have it,” he says; for to recover what has been thrown away needs more toil, but not to lose what one holds does not. But to the Galatians he writes the opposite: “My little children, for whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you”; and rightly. For they had grown more careless, so that they needed a sharper word; but these needed … “Do not, then, throw away your boldness,” he says. So they were in great boldness toward God. “Which has,” he says, “a great reward.” What is this? Then, he says, we shall receive these things. Therefore, if it is laid up for the future, one must not seek it here. Then, so that no one might say, “Look, all that was ours has been taken,” he has therefore anticipated them, and with their own assumption, all but saying this: if you know that you have a better possession in heaven, seek nothing here. “For you have need of endurance,” not of an added contest, so that you may remain in the same course, so that you may not throw away what was entrusted to you. You need nothing else but to stand as you have stood, so that, having come to the end, you may receive the promise. “For you have need of endurance,” he says, “so that, having done the will of God, you may receive the promise.” So you need one thing only: to wait out the delay, not to contend again. You stand, he says, at the very crown; you have borne all the contests: the bonds, the afflictions; your possessions were plundered. What then? From now on you stand ready to be crowned; bear only this, the delay of the crown. What a great encouragement! He encourages them as one might speak to an athlete who has thrown everyone and has no opponent left, and is then about to be crowned, but cannot bear that interval of time in which the president of the games comes and places the crown on him; and he, having no patience, would like to go out and run away, as unable to bear the thirst and the burning heat. Hinting at this, then, what does he say? “For yet a very little while, and the one who is coming will come and will not delay.” For so that they might not say, “And when will he come?” he encourages them from the Scriptures; for when he says elsewhere too, “Now salvation is nearer to us,” he comforts them, since the time remaining is short. And he says this not from himself but from the Scriptures. And if it was said from that time, “A very little while, and the one who is coming will come and will not delay,” it is clear that he is nearer now. So that even the waiting has no small reward. “But the righteous one,” he says, “shall live by faith; and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.” This is a great encouragement, when one shows people who have accomplished everything losing it through a little indolence. “But we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the proof of things not seen.” For in this he used the expression, “proof of things not seen”; for “proof” is said of things that are very plain. Faith, then, is the sight of things not plain, he says, and brings the things that are not seen to the same full assurance as the things that are seen. So one cannot disbelieve the things that are seen, nor again can there be faith unless one is more fully assured about the things unseen than about the things seen. For since things in hope seem to have no substance, faith gives them substance; or rather, it does not give it, but is itself their being. For example, the resurrection has not come, nor does it exist in substance, but hope makes it subsist in our soul. This is “the substance of things hoped for.” If, then, it is the proof of things not seen, why do you want to see them, so that you fall from faith and from being righteous, if indeed “the righteous shall live by faith”? But if you want to see them, you are no longer believers. “You have toiled,” he says, “you have contended”; I say this too; but wait; for this is faith; do not seek everything here.

These things were said to the Hebrews, but they are a common exhortation also to many of those gathered here. How, and in what way? To the faint-hearted, to the small-souled. For when they see the wicked prospering and themselves faring badly, [they grow faint, though they ought to bear it nobly, since they will see] the punishment and the vengeance [of the wicked], when they receive the rewards of their own labors. “Yet a very little while, and the one who is coming will come and will not delay,” Paul said then. Let us too, then, say this to the careless: there will certainly be punishment; [the Lord] will certainly come; the things of the resurrection are already at the doors. “How is it clear?” someone says. I do not say from the prophets; for my word now is not only to Christians; but even if it is a Greek, I am quite confident, and I will offer the proofs and teach him. And how, listen. Christ foretold many things. If those did not come to pass, do not believe these either; but if they all came to pass, why do you doubt about the rest? And yet it would have been very unreasonable to believe about those when none had come to pass, rather than to disbelieve these when all have come to pass. But rather let me make the matter plain by example. Christ said that Jerusalem would be taken, and taken with a capture such as never before, and that it would not rise again; and the prediction came to pass in fact. He said that there would be great tribulation, and it came to pass. He said [that, as a grain of mustard seed is sown, so] the preaching [would spread]; and this we see running over the world every day. He said that those who left father or mother or brothers or sisters would have fathers and mothers too; and this too we see fulfilled in fact. He said, “In the world [you will have tribulation; but take courage, I have overcome] the world,” that is, no one will get the better of you; and this too we see come to pass in the event. He said that the gates of Hades would not prevail against the church, even though it was persecuted, and that no one would quench the preaching; and the experience of events bears witness to this prediction too. And yet he seemed very unbelievable saying these things then. Why? Because all were words, and he had not yet offered any proof of what was said. So now they have become much more credible. He said that when the gospel had been preached among all the nations, then the end would come; and see, we have now come near the end. For the greater part of the world has been evangelized; so the end is now at hand. Let us tremble, beloved. But why, tell me, are you anxious about the consummation? For it is indeed near; but each one's life and death is much nearer. “For the days of our years,” it says, “in them are seventy years; and if in strength, eighty years.” The day of judgment is near; let us fear even so. “A brother does not redeem; will a man redeem?” We shall repent much there; but “in death no one will confess to him.” That is why it says, “Let us come before his face with confession,” that is, before his coming. For here whatever we do has force, but there no longer. If someone, tell me, set us in a burning furnace for a short time, would we not undergo anything to be freed, even if we had to give up money, even if we had to undergo slavery? How many have fallen into severe diseases and would readily have chosen to give everything to be freed, if the choice had been offered? If, then, a short disease here grieves us so, what shall we do there, when there will be no profit from repentance? With how many evils are we now filled, and do not perceive it, … wronging, accusing, slandering, being stung by our neighbors' reputations. And see the grievous thing: when someone wishes to undermine his neighbor's good name, he says, “So-and-so said such and such about him; God forgive me, do not examine me, I am only repeating what I heard.” [If you do not believe it, why] do you say it at all? Why do you say it? Why do you make it credible by spreading the report? Why do you ferry along a word that is not true? You do not believe it, and you call on God not to examine you? Do not speak, then, but be silent, and you are rid of all fear. But I do not know from where this disease has fallen upon people. We have become babblers; nothing stays in our soul. Hear a wise man advising and saying, “Have you heard a word? Let it die with you; be of good courage, it will not burst you”; and again, “A fool hearing a word is in labor, like a woman giving birth to a child.” We are ready for accusations, prepared for condemnations. Even if we had done no other evil, this would be enough to destroy us and lead us away to Gehenna. Hear the prophet saying this: “You sat and spoke against [your brother].” [“But it was not I,” you say,] “but that one.” You, rather; for if you had not said it, another would not have heard; and even if he was going to hear it, you would not be the cause of the sin. When you ought to cover over and hide your neighbors' failings, do you parade them under the pretext of love of goodness? You do not become an accuser, but a babbler, a chatterer, a fool. What a terrible thing! You shame yourself along with him, and do not perceive it? See how many evils arise from this: … you make yourself [liable] to punishment. Do you not hear Paul saying about widowed women, “And not only idle, but also [gossips and busybodies], going around the houses and saying what they should not”? So even when you believe what is said against your brother, you ought not to say it even then, much less when you disbelieve it. But you look everywhere to your own interest, fearing to be examined by God? Fear, then, lest you be examined for the babbling too. For here you cannot say, “May God not examine me for the babbling”; for the thing is babbling. Why did you parade it? Why did you make the evil greater? This can destroy us. That is why Christ said, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” But we take no account of this, nor does the case of the Pharisee bring us to our senses. He said a true thing, “I am not like this tax collector,” and said it with no one listening, and he was condemned. If he was condemned for saying what was true, and saying it with no one listening, those who say false things, and about things they are not [sure of, like] gossiping women, what terrible thing will they not suffer? What will they not endure? From now on let us set a door and a bar on our mouth; for countless evils have come from babbling; households have been [overturned]. Do not meddle with your neighbor's affairs, O man. “But you are talkative, and have a failing?” Talk about your own affairs to God; in this way the failing will no longer be a failing but an advantage. Talk about your own affairs to friends, to your truest friends and righteous ones, those in whom you have confidence, so that they may pray for your sins. If you speak of other people's affairs, you have profited nothing, gained nothing, but you have even perished; if you confess your own to the Master, you have a great reward: “For I said,” it says, “I will confess against myself my lawlessness to the Lord; and you forgave the ungodliness of my heart.” Do you want to judge? Judge your own affairs. No one accuses you if you condemn yourself; but he does accuse you if you do not condemn yourself; he accuses you if you do not convict yourself; he accuses you if you do not grieve. Have you seen so-and-so angry, provoked, or doing something else improper? At once think of your own affairs too; and in this way you will not condemn him harshly, and you will free yourself from the burden of your sins. If we order our own life in this way, if we conduct our life in this way, if we condemn ourselves, we will perhaps not sin much, but we will do much good, being gentle and moderate, and we will enjoy all the good things promised to those who love God; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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.

“By faith we understand that the ages were framed by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that appear. By faith Abel offered to God a greater sacrifice [than Cain, through which he was attested] to be righteous, God bearing witness to his gifts; and through it, though he died, [he still speaks].” The matter of faith needs a noble and youthful soul, one that rises above all things of sense and passes beyond the weakness of human reasonings. For it is not possible to become a believer otherwise, unless one lifts oneself above common habit. Since, then, the souls of the Hebrews had grown weak, and though they had begun from faith, they were being shaken by events, I mean by their sufferings and afflictions, he first encouraged them from their own record, saying, “Remember the former days”; then from the Scripture which says, “But the righteous shall live by faith”; then from reasonings, saying, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the proof of things not seen.” And now again from the forefathers, those great and admirable men, all but saying: if [those men], [when the good things were not] close at hand, were all saved by faith, much more we. For when the soul finds someone who has shared the same things, it is refreshed and revives. This one can see happening with faith, and with affliction too; as he says elsewhere, “That I may be encouraged together with you by the faith we share with one another.” For the human race is very distrustful, and cannot rely on itself, and fears about whatever it judges; … and it has great concern for the opinion of the many. What then does Paul do? He encourages them from those of earlier times, and before these, from common notions. For since faith was then slandered as a thing without proof, and rather a matter of deceit, he therefore shows that the greatest things are accomplished through faith and not through reasonings. And how does he show this, tell me? By saying, “By faith we understand that the ages were framed by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that appear.” It is clear, he says, that God made the things that are out of things that are not, the things that appear out of things that do not appear, the things that subsist out of things that do not subsist. And how is it clear that he did this by a word? For reasoning suggests nothing of the kind, but rather the opposite: that the things that do not appear come from the things that appear. That is why above all the philosophers, being unspiritual and entrusting nothing to faith, say that nothing comes from what is not. And yet they themselves are caught too, whenever they say something great and noble, entrusting it to faith; for example, they say that God is without beginning and unbegotten; for reasoning does not suggest this, but the opposite. And consider their great folly: they say God is without beginning, which is much more wonderful than [creation] out of nothing. For to say that he is without beginning, that he is unbegotten, begotten neither by himself nor by another, is more perplexing than to say that God made the things that are out of things that are not. For here many things are credible: for example, that he made something, that what is made had a beginning, that it was made at all; but there, [that he is] self-existent, unbegotten, had neither beginning nor time: do these not need faith, tell me? But he did not set down this, which was much greater, but the lesser, saying, “By faith we understand that the ages were framed by the word of God.” How then, you say, is it clear that God made all things by a word? For reasoning does not suggest this, nor was anyone present when these things came to be. By faith; for understanding is a work of faith. That is why he said, “By faith we understand.” What do we understand by faith, tell me? That what is seen was not made out of things that appear; for this is faith. Having stated the general point, he then exercises it in persons. And indeed a man of renown is worth the whole world. He hinted at this later too. For when he had set it against a hundred or two hundred persons, he then saw that their number was small compared with the multitude, and so says, “Of whom the world was not worthy.” “By faith Abel offered to God a greater sacrifice than Cain.” See: he puts him first, the one who suffered evil, and at the hands of a brother who had in no way been wronged by him, but who envied him because of God. So the suffering is akin to yours. For you too, he says, suffered the same things at the hands of your own [people]. At the same time he also shows that they too are envied and begrudged. That man honored God, and died for having honored him, and has not yet obtained the resurrection; but his eagerness is plain, and his own part has been done, while God's part has not yet been brought to him. By a “greater” sacrifice he means here the more honorable, the more splendid, the more fitting. And we cannot say, he says, that it was not accepted; for he accepted it, and said to Cain, “If you offer rightly but do not divide rightly, [have you not sinned]?” So Abel both offered rightly and divided rightly. But nevertheless, in return for these things, what recompense [did he receive]? The condemnation which the father underwent because of his sin, this the son who did right was the first to receive; and he suffered so much more grievously in that it was at a brother's hands, and the first. And he did these good things looking to no one; for to whom did he look in honoring God so? To his father and mother? But they had insulted him in return for his benefits. To his brother? But he too dishonored him. So he discovered the good from himself. And the man worthy of such honor, what does he suffer? He is killed. Then he adds another praise, saying, “Through which he was attested to be righteous, God bearing witness to his gifts; and through it, though he died, he still speaks.” And how else was he attested to be righteous? It is said that fire came down and consumed the sacrifices; for in place of [this], “The Lord looked upon Abel and upon his sacrifices,” he said, “And he sent fire on them.” He, then, who both by words and by deeds bore witness to the righteous man, and saw him killed for his sake, did not avenge him, but allowed [it].

But your case is not like this: how could it be, when you have [prophets and examples and] countless [encouragements], and signs and wonders that have happened? So that his was truly faith. For what wonders did he see, that he should believe there would be some recompense for his good deeds? Did he not practice virtue from faith alone? What is “And through it, though he died, he still speaks”? So as not to cast them into great despair, he shows that he has in part enjoyed a reward. How? The concern shown for him, he says, is great; for he hinted at this by saying, “and he still speaks”; that is, [Cain] killed him, but did not kill along with him his glory and honor; he has not died; so neither will you die. For the more grievously someone suffers, the greater the glory. How then does he still speak? This is a sign both of his living and of his being sung by all, admired and called blessed; for one who exhorts others to be righteous speaks. For no word accomplishes as much as his suffering. Just as heaven speaks merely by being seen, so that man speaks by being remembered. Not if he had proclaimed himself, not if he had had countless tongues and were alive, would he have been so admired as now. That is, these things do not happen without punishment, nor idly, nor do they pass away. “By faith Enoch was taken up so that he should not see death, and he was not found, because God had taken him up; for before his being taken up he was attested to have pleased God. But without faith it is impossible to please him; for whoever draws near to God must first believe that he exists and that he becomes the rewarder of those who seek him.” This man showed a greater faith than Abel. Why? Because, even though he came after him, what happened to Abel was enough to turn him back. How? God foreknew that he would be killed; for he said to Cain, “You have sinned; do not do so again.” He was honored by him; he did not avenge him. And not even this cast him into indolence; he did not say to himself, “What need is there of toils and dangers? Abel honored God, and he did not avenge him. For what profit is there to the one who has departed in the punishment of the brother? What could he enjoy from it? Let us grant that he pays a heavy penalty: what is that to the one who was killed?” He said nothing of the kind, he thought nothing of the kind, but passing beyond all these things he knew that if God exists, he is surely also a rewarder; and yet they knew nothing as yet about the resurrection. And if those who as yet knew nothing about the resurrection, but even saw the opposite here, pleased God so, how much more should we? For neither did they know about the resurrection, nor did they have examples to look at. This very thing, then, made him pleasing [to God]: that he received nothing. Tell me, now: he knew that God is a rewarder. From where? For he had not yet repaid even Abel. So reasoning suggested other things, but faith the opposite of what was seen. So you too, he says, even if you see that you receive nothing here, do not be troubled. And how was Enoch taken up by faith? Because pleasing God was the cause of his being taken up, and faith the cause of his pleasing God. For if he had not known that he would receive rewards, how would he have pleased him? “But without faith it is impossible to please him.” How? If someone believes that there is a God and a recompense, he will have the rewards. From this, then, comes the pleasing. “For whoever draws near to God must believe that he exists,” not what he is. And if “that he exists” needs faith and not reasonings, can “what he is” be grasped by reasoning? If “that he is a rewarder” needs faith and not reasonings, how can the things of his being be comprehended by reasoning? What reasoning will be able to attain to these things? For some say that the things that are are carried along of themselves. Do you see that unless we believe about everything, not only about the recompense but about the very existence of God, everything is lost to us? Many ask where Enoch was taken, and why he was taken, and why neither he nor Elijah died, and, if they are still alive, how they live and in what condition they are. But it is wholly superfluous to ask these things. For that the one was taken up and the other taken up the Scriptures have said; but where they are and how they are they did not go on to add; for they say nothing beyond what is necessary. For this happened (I mean the taking up) right at the beginning, so that human nature might receive the hope of the abolition of death and of the overthrow of the devil's tyranny, and that death will be undone; for he was taken up not dead, but so as not to see death. That is why he added: he was taken up alive, because he pleased [God]. For just as a father who has threatened his son wishes to relax the threat at once, as soon as he has threatened, but holds back and endures, so that [the son may be chastened, and so does not lift] the threat; so God too, speaking almost in human fashion, did not endure, but at once showed that death has been undone. And first he lets death fall on the righteous man, wishing to frighten the father through the son. For wishing to show that the sentence is truly firm, he subjected to the punishment not the wicked at once, but even the one who had pleased him, I mean that blessed Abel; and almost immediately after this he took Enoch up alive. And he did not raise up the former, so that they might not grow confident at once, but took this one up alive: through Abel [making them afraid], and through this one giving them zeal to please him. So those who say that all things are carried and borne along of themselves, and do not expect recompense, do not please him, as neither do the Greeks. “For to those who seek him” through works and through knowledge … Since, then, we have a rewarder, let us do everything so as not to be deprived of the rewards given for virtue; for it deserves many tears to overlook such a recompense, to despise such a repayment. For just as he becomes a rewarder to those who seek him, so the opposite to those who do not seek. “Seek, and you will find,” he says. And how is it possible to find the Lord? Consider how gold is found: with much labor. “With my hands,” it says, “by night before him, and I was not deceived.” That is, as we seek what is lost, so let us seek God. Do we not concentrate our mind there? Do we not question everyone? Do we not travel abroad? Do we not promise money? For example, suppose we had a son who was lost: what do we not do? What land, what sea do we not go around? Do we not put money and houses and everything second to finding him? And if we find him, … And when we are going to seek [anything], we work at everything so as to find what is sought. How much more should one do this in the case of God, as seeking something necessary? Or rather not so, but much more. Yet since we are weak, seek God at least as you seek your money or your son. Do you not travel abroad for this? Did you never travel abroad for money? Do you not busy yourself with everything? Are you not confident only when you have found it? “Seek,” he says, “and you will find.” For things sought need much care, and above all in the case of God; for many are the hindrances, many the things that darken, many the things that obstruct our perception. For just as the sun is plain, and set in the open for all, and we do not need to seek it; but if we bury ourselves, even if we turn everything around, we need much labor to look up at the sun; so too here: if we bury ourselves in the depth of evil desires, if in the darkness of the passions and of worldly affairs, we scarcely see through, we scarcely look up. The one buried below, the more he looks up, the nearer he comes to the sun. Let us shake off the dust, then; let us tear away the mist that lies upon us; it is thick and close, and does not let us [see]. How [shall we tear it away]? If we draw to ourselves the rays of the spiritual sun, the sun of righteousness; if we lift our hands to heaven (“The lifting up of my hands,” it says, “is an evening sacrifice”); if together with our hands we lift up our mind too. You who are initiated know what I mean; perhaps you also recognize what was said and perceive what I hinted at. Let us lift up our understanding on high. I know many men who are almost suspended from the earth, and stretch out their hands beyond measure, and are dejected that they cannot be lifted up into the air, and pray in this way with eagerness. I wish you to be like this always; and if not always, at least often; and if not often, at least sometimes, at least in the morning prayers, at least in the evening ones. For tell me, can you not stretch out your hands? Stretch out your will as far as you like; stretch it out even to heaven itself; you may even go up and walk about there. For our mind is lighter and higher than any wing. And when it receives the grace of the Spirit too, oh! how swift it is, how quick, how it goes around everything, how it is not borne down nor falls to the ground! Let us make these wings for ourselves; by them we shall be able to fly across even the sea of the surge of the present life. [Swifter than] the swiftest of birds, [it crosses] mountains and valleys and seas and cliffs in a moment: the mind, when it is winged, when it has stood apart from worldly things; nothing can take hold of it; it is above all things, even the fiery darts of the devil. The devil is not so good a marksman as to be able to reach that height. But what? He shoots his darts, for he is shameless; he does not hit, but the dart returns to him empty, and not only empty, but onto his own head; for what is sent by him must certainly strike. Just as what is shot by men strikes either the one at whom it is sent, or a tree, or a wall, or a garment, or wood, or cuts through the air itself, so too the devil's dart must certainly strike; and if it does not strike the one shot at, it certainly strikes the one who sent it. And one can learn this from many cases, that when we are not struck, he is certainly struck. For example, he plotted against Job; he did not strike him, but was struck himself; he plotted against Paul; he did not strike him, but was struck himself. And one can see this happening everywhere, if we are sober. And when he strikes, he is struck; but much more when … against him with the swords and the shield … of the devil, evil desire. Anger above all: it is fire, it is flame; it seizes, destroys, burns up; but let us quench it with long-suffering, with forbearance … he did no harm, but rather did good, and he himself was the more overpowered. For nothing is equal to long-suffering; such a man is never insulted; but just as bodies of adamant are not struck, so neither are such souls; for they are above the darts. The long-suffering man is high, and so high that he receives no wound from the shot. When the other grows savage, you laugh; but laugh not openly, so as not to provoke him, but laugh in your soul for his sake. For with children too, when they strike us in a temper, as though taking revenge, we laugh. If, then, you laugh, the difference between you and him will be as great as between a child and a man; but if you grow savage, you have become a child; for those who are angry are more foolish than children. Tell me, now: if someone looks at a child in a rage, does he not laugh at him? One can see this happening with angry people too. Such people are faint-hearted, and if faint-hearted, also foolish: “But the faint-hearted,” it says, “is exceedingly foolish.” So the foolish man is a child. “And the long-suffering man,” it says, “is great in understanding.” Let us pursue this long-suffering, then, from which much understanding comes to those who practice it, so that we may attain the good things promised to us, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, and worship, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“By faith Noah, being warned [by God] about things not yet [seen, moved with reverent fear, prepared an ark] for the salvation of his household; through which he condemned the world, and [became heir] of the righteousness that is according to faith.” “By faith,” he says, “Noah, being warned.” Just as the Son of God, speaking about his own coming, said, “In the days of Noah they were marrying and being given in marriage,” so this man too speaks. And he fittingly reminded them of an image akin to their own case; for the example of Enoch was an example of faith only, but that of Noah of unbelief too. And this is a complete encouragement and exhortation, when not only are those who believed found to be approved, but those who disbelieved are found suffering the opposite. For what does he say? “By faith Noah, being warned.” What is this? It had been foretold to him, he says. He calls prophecy a “warning” (χρηματισμός); for elsewhere too he spoke thus: “And it had been revealed to him by the Spirit”; and again, “And what does the divine response say?” Do you see the Spirit's equal honor? For as God gives oracles, so does the Holy Spirit. And why did he speak thus? To show that the warning is prophecy. “About things not yet seen,” he says; that is, reasoning suggested nothing of the kind; for they were marrying and being given in marriage, the air was clear, there were no signs; but nevertheless that man feared. That is why he spoke thus: “By faith Noah, being warned about things not yet [seen, prepared an ark] for the salvation of his household.” How? “Through which he condemned the world.” He showed them to be worthy of punishment, since they did not [come to their senses] even through the building [of the ark]. “And he became heir,” he says, “of the righteousness that is according to faith”; that is, from this he was shown to be righteous, from believing God. For this belongs to a soul that is genuinely disposed toward him, and judges nothing more trustworthy than his words; just as unbelief does the opposite. And it is plain that faith produces righteousness. As we have been warned about Gehenna, so that man too [was warned about the flood]. And yet he was laughed at then, and reproached and mocked; but nevertheless he looked to none of these things. “By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed to go out to the place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he sojourned in the land of promise as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, [the fellow heirs of the same promise].” For whom did he see, tell me, that he should emulate him? He had a father who was a Greek and an idolater; he had not heard the prophets, nor did he know where he was going. For since the Hebrews who had believed looked to these men as having enjoyed countless good things, he shows that no one has yet received anything, but all are unrewarded, and that no one has yet received the recompense. That man lost his country and his house, and went out not knowing where he was going. And what is wonderful about him, when even his seed dwelt in the same way? Seeing the promise, at any rate, seemingly refuted, he did not grow faint; for he had said, “To you I will give this land, and to your seed.” He saw his son dwelling there [as a stranger], and the grandson in turn saw himself dwelling in a foreign land, and he was not at all troubled. For in Abraham's case this naturally happened, since the promise was afterward to come to fulfillment in his descendants; and yet it had been said to him too, “To you and to your seed”; not “to you through your seed,” but “to you and to your seed”; and neither he, nor Isaac, nor Jacob enjoyed the promise. For the one served for wages, the other was driven out, and the third was even driven away in fear; and some things he took by war, while for others, had he not obtained God's help, he would have perished. That is why he says, “with the heirs of the same promise”: not he alone, he says, but also the heirs. Then he also added something clearer than what had been said, saying, “These all died in faith, not having received the promises.” Here two things deserve to be asked: how, having said that God took Enoch up so that he should not see death, and he was not found, he says, “These all died in faith”; and again, having said, “not having received the promises,” he shows that Noah received a reward in the salvation of his household, and that Enoch was taken up, and that Abel still speaks, and that Abraham took possession of the land; and yet he says, “These all died in faith, not having received the promises.” What then is it that he says? It is necessary to solve the first question, then the second. “These all,” he says, “died in faith.” He said “all” here not because all died, but because, that man [Enoch] being excepted, all these died whom we know to have died. And “not having received the promises” is true; for this was not to be the promise to Noah.

And what promises does he mean? For Isaac and Jacob received the promises of the land; but Noah and Abel and Enoch, what promises did they receive? Either, then, he speaks of these three; or, if of those too, this was not the promise: that Abel should be admired, nor that Enoch should be taken up, nor that Noah should be saved; but these things happened to them because of their virtue, and were a kind of foretaste of the things to come. For God, knowing from the beginning that the human race needed much condescension, grants us not only the things in the future, but also those here; for example, what Christ said to the disciples too: “Whoever has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life”; and again, “Seek the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” Do you see that these things are given by him as an addition, so that we may not grow weary? For just as athletes enjoy care even while they are competing, but do not then enjoy complete relaxation, since they live under rules, but enjoy it all afterward, so God too does not give us to share fully in rest here; for he gives even here, but nevertheless he has stored up the whole for the future. And that this is so he made clear by what follows too, saying, “having seen them from afar and greeted them.” Here he hints at something mystical; for he shows that they received beforehand all that was said about the things to come, about the resurrection, about the kingdom of heaven, about the other things that Christ preached when he came; for it is these that he calls the promises. Or he means this: that they did not receive them, but departed confident about them; and they were confident by faith alone. And he said, “having seen them from afar,” showing that it was four generations before; for after so many they came up out of Egypt. “And having greeted them,” he says, and having rejoiced. They were so convinced about them that they even greeted them; he spoke by a metaphor from sailors who see from afar the cities they long for, which, before they enter them, they make their own by greeting them. “For they were waiting for the city that has foundations, whose craftsman and builder is God.” Do you see that “they received” means that they already accepted them and were confident about them? If, then, to be confident is to receive, it is possible for you too to receive. For these, even though they did not enjoy these things, nevertheless beheld them with longing. Why do these things happen? So that we may be put to shame, because they, even when the things on earth were promised to them, paid no attention, but sought the city to come; whereas to us God speaks up and down about the city above, and we seek the one here. He said to them, “I will give you the things in the present”; but when he saw, or rather when they showed themselves worthy of greater things, then he no longer lets them receive these, but those greater things, wishing to show us that they are worthy of greater things, since they did not wish to be bound to these; as if someone promised a sensible man childish things, not so that he would take them, but to display his wisdom, while he asks for the greater things. For this is the mark of one showing that they kept away from the earth with such zeal that they did not take it even when it was given. Therefore it is their descendants who receive it; for they [the descendants] were worthy of the land. What is “the city that has foundations”? Do these cities not have foundations? Compared with that one they do not. “Whose craftsman and builder is God.” Oh, what praise of that city! “By faith Sarah herself also.” Here he began in a way that shames them, if they should appear more faint-hearted than a woman. But someone might say, “How was she faithful, she who laughed?” The laughter came from unbelief, but the fear from faith; for saying, “I did not laugh,” came from faith. Therefore, when the unbelief had been emptied out, faith came in. “By faith Sarah herself also received power for the conceiving of seed, and bore a child past the time of life.” What is “for the conceiving of seed”? For retaining the seed: for its reception she who was as good as dead, the barren one, received power. For the disability was twofold: one from age, for she was truly old; the other from nature, for she was barren. “Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven in number, and as the countless sand by the seashore.” “Therefore,” he says, “from one man they were all born.” He says here not only that she bore, but that she became mother of so many as not even fruitful wombs [bear]: “As the stars,” he says. How then does he often count them, though he said, “As the stars of heaven will not be numbered, so neither will your seed”? Either this is said by hyperbole, or he spoke so because of those continually being added. For in a single household it is possible to count the ancestors, for example, so-and-so son of so-and-so, and so-and-so son of so-and-so; but here, where the race is compared to the multitude of the stars, it is not possible. Such are God's promises, so lavish are his pledges. If what he promised by way of addition is so wonderful, so extraordinary, so munificent, what will those things be to which these are an addition, of which these come from the overflow? What, then, is more wretched than those who [fall short of them]? For if someone driven from his country is pitied by all, and one who has lost an inheritance seems pitiable to everyone, the one who falls from heaven and from the good things stored up there, with how many tears ought he to be wept for? Or rather, not even wept for; for one is wept for when he suffers something of which he himself is not the cause; but when by his own choice he [loses these things], he is worthy of … rather, even then of mourning; since our Lord Jesus Christ too mourned and wept over Jerusalem, though it was ungodly. Truly we are worthy of countless lamentations, countless dirges. Even if the whole world took a voice, and stones and wood and trees, wild beasts and birds and fish, in short the whole world, if it took a voice and lamented us who have fallen from those good things, it would not lament or bewail us as we deserve. For what word will be able to describe, what mind [to conceive] that blessedness, and that excellence, the pleasure, the glory, the gladness, the splendor? “What eye,” he says, “has not seen, and ear has not heard, [and has not entered the heart of man, what] God has [prepared] for those who love him.” He did not say simply that it surpasses, but that no one has ever even conceived what God has prepared for those who love him. For of what sort must those good things be of which God is the preparer and provider? For if, as soon as he made us, though nothing had been done by us beforehand, he granted so much—paradise, converse with himself—promised immortality, a blessed life free of cares, what will he not grant to those who have done so much and contended so much, and endured for his sake? He did not spare his only-begotten for our sake; he gave his own true Son to death for us. And if he counted us worthy of such things when we were enemies, of what will he not count us worthy when we have become friends? What will he not share with us, having reconciled us to himself? And he is exceedingly rich, and desires infinitely and is eager to obtain our friendship; but we are not eager for even the smallest part of it, beloved. Why do I say we are not eager? We do not wish to obtain his good things as much as he himself wishes. And that he wishes it more he showed by what he did. For we for our own sake scarcely despise a little gold; but he for our sake gave even his own Son. Let us use the love of God as we ought, beloved; let us enjoy his friendship. “For you are my friends,” he says, “if you do what I tell you.” Oh! the enemies who stood infinitely apart from him, from whom he differs in every respect by an incomparable superiority, these he has made friends and calls friends? What, then, is not worth choosing to suffer for this friendship? But we often even risk danger for the friendship of men, while for the friendship of God we do not even part with money. Truly our state deserves mourning, mourning and tears, and lamentations, and wailing. We have fallen from our [hope]; we have been brought low from our height; we have shown ourselves unworthy of God's honor; we have shown ourselves ungrateful, and [un]thankful after his benefits; the devil has stripped us of all good things; we who were counted worthy to be sons, brothers and fellow heirs, differ in nothing from his enemies, from those who insult him. What comfort will we have from now on? He called us to heaven, and we have pushed ourselves toward Gehenna. Cursing and lying and theft and adultery are poured out over the earth; some mingle blood with blood, others do things worse than bloodshed. Many of those who are wronged, many of those who are cheated, pray for countless deaths rather than suffer these things; and if they had not feared God, they would even have [killed] themselves, thus becoming their own murderers. Are not these things worse than bloodshed? “Woe is me, my soul,” he said, “for [the godly man has perished] from the earth, and there is none among men who does right.” But now we too shall cry this out, about ourselves first. But join me in the lament. Perhaps some even take it as an ill omen and laugh; but for this very reason one must intensify the lament the more, that we are so mad and out of our minds that we do not even know that we are mad, but laugh at the things over which we ought to groan. “The wrath” of God, O man, “is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.” “God will come openly; fire will burn before him, and round about him a mighty tempest.” “Fire will go before him and will burn up his enemies round about.” “The day of the Lord is like a burning furnace.” And no one takes these things to heart, but these awful and fearful things are despised more than fables, and trampled underfoot. The one who listens: no one; those who laugh and mock: all. What way out will we have? From where shall I find salvation? … a laughingstock to our enemies, and a mockery to the Greeks and the demons. Now the devil is proud, exults and rejoices; all the angels entrusted with us are in shame, in dejection; there is no one who turns back; everything has been spent on us in vain, and to you we seem to be talking nonsense. It is fitting now too to call on heaven, since there is no one listening: “Hear, O heaven, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord has spoken.” Give a hand, reach it out, you who have not yet been drowned, to those who have been lost through drunkenness; you who are healthy, to those who are sick; you who are sober, to those who are mad; you who are steady, to those who are carried about. Let no one, I beg you, prefer [any] favor to his friend's salvation; and let both insult and rebuke look to one thing only, his benefit. When fever takes hold, even slaves rule their masters. For when it burns him up, confounding the soul, and a swarm of slaves stands by, no one recognizes the master's law when the master is being harmed. … submersions, countless destructions round about, and on every side the wrath of God surrounds us. But we are as unconcerned as if we were pleasing [him]; we all make our hands ready for greed, none for help; all for robbery, none for protection; each is eager how he may make his possessions more, no one how he may help the needy; each is anxious how he may add to his money, no one how he may save his own soul; one fear holds everyone: “Let us not become poor,” he says; but that we may not fall into Gehenna, no one is in anguish or trembles. These things deserve laments, accusations, censure. But I did not wish to say these things; I am forced by my pain; forgive me; I am compelled by grief to utter many things, even things I do not wish to. I see a severe wound, a misfortune beyond comfort; the evils that have overtaken us are greater than any consolation; we have perished. “Who will give water to my head, and to my eyes a fountain of tears, that I may lament?” Let us weep, beloved, let us weep, let us groan. Perhaps there are some here who say, “Everything he says to us is laments, everything tears.” … to recount praises and commendations; but now is not the time for these. It is not lamenting that is grievous, beloved, but doing things deserving of lament; it is not mourning that is abhorrent, but doing things deserving of lamentation. Do not be punished, and I do not mourn; do not die, and I do not weep. But if the body lies dead, you call on everyone to grieve with you, and you consider those who do not mourn unsympathetic; and when the soul is perishing, do you tell me not to mourn? But I cannot be a father without weeping; I am an affectionate father. Hear what cries Paul utters: “My little children, for whom I am again in labor.” What mother in labor utters such bitter cries as he? Would that it were possible to see the very fire of my mind, and you would have seen that I burn more than any woman or girl who has suffered untimely widowhood. She does not mourn her own husband, nor a mother her son, as I mourn this multitude among us. I see no progress; everything goes to slanders and accusations; no one makes it his work to please God; but: “Let us speak evil of so-and-so,” he says, “and of so-and-so; so-and-so is unworthy of the clergy, so-and-so lives without dignity.” When we ought to mourn our own evils, we judge others, which we ought not to do even when we are pure of sins. “For who distinguishes you?” it says; “and what do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?” Why, then, do you judge your brother, when you yourself are full of countless evils? When you say, “So-and-so is wicked and a scoundrel and a villain,” consider yourself, and examine your own affairs closely, and you will regret what you said. For there is no exhortation to virtue, there is none, like the remembrance of sins. If we turn over these two things in ourselves, we will be able to obtain the promised good things; we will be able to cleanse ourselves and … the matter, beloved; let us feel pain in our reasoning, so that we may not feel pain there in the punishment, but may enjoy the eternal good things, where pain, grief and sighing have fled away; so that we may attain the eternal good things that surpass the human mind, in Christ Jesus; to him be glory to the ages of ages. Amen.

“[… and confessing] that they were strangers and sojourners on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. And if they had been thinking of that one from which they had gone out, they would have had [opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better one, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed of] them, [to be called their God]; for he has prepared a city for them.” The first virtue, and the whole of virtue, is to be a stranger and sojourner in this world, and to have nothing in common with the things here, but to be detached from them as from things foreign; like those blessed disciples, of whom he says, “They went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, mistreated, of whom the world was not worthy.” Those men, then, called themselves strangers; but Paul said something much more. For he did not call himself simply a stranger, but called himself dead to the world, and the world dead to him: “For to me,” he says, “the world has been crucified, and I to the world.” But we, as though we were citizens, and very much alive as citizens, so conduct all our affairs here; and what the righteous were to the world, strangers and dead, that we are to heaven; and what they were to heaven, living and citizens, that we are to the world. That is why we have died: because we have denied the true life and chosen this temporary one; that is why we provoke God, because, though the enjoyment of heaven is set before us, not even so are we willing to stand apart from the things on earth, but, like worms, we turn from earth to earth, and again from this to this, and are not willing to lift our heads even a little, nor to withdraw ourselves from human affairs, but as if under some stupor and sleep and drunkenness… And just as those held by sweet sleep lie in bed not only at night, but even when dawn has come and the day has grown bright, and are not ashamed to indulge their pleasure, making the time of work and diligence a time of sleep and sluggishness, so we too, when the day draws near, when the night is far advanced, or rather when it is day (“Work,” he says, “while it is day”), though it is day, we do all the things of the night: sleeping, seeing dreams, luxuriating in fancies; and the eyes of our mind are closed, and those of the body; … [even if someone deals us a deep] blow, we do not even perceive it, even if he plunders all our property, even if he sets fire to the house itself. Or rather, we do not even wait for others to do this, but we do it ourselves, goading and striking ourselves every day, lying in disgrace, stripped of all good repute, all honor, neither covering our shameful deeds ourselves nor allowing others to do it, but [exposing them] in public, to laughter, to countless jests. Do you not think that even the wicked themselves laugh at those of like character, and condemn them? For since God has placed within us an incorruptible tribunal that is never corrupted, even if we come to the very bottom of wickedness, for this reason even the wicked themselves condemn themselves; and if anyone calls them what they are, they are ashamed, they are angry, they call the thing an insult. So, even if not by deeds, they condemn by words what they do, through their conscience; or rather, by their deeds too. For when they act in secret and in hiding, they give the greatest proof of the opinion they have about the thing. For wickedness is so plain that all are its accusers, even those who pursue it; and virtue is such that it is admired even by those who do not emulate it. For even the fornicator will praise chastity, and the greedy man will condemn injustice, and the irascible man will admire forbearance and blame pettiness, and the licentious man licentiousness. How then does he pursue these things, someone says? From great indolence, not because he judged it good; since otherwise he would not have been ashamed of the thing, nor would he have denied it when another accused him. And many, when caught in the act, unable to bear the shame, have even hanged themselves; so great is the testimony to the noble and the fitting that is within us; so much brighter than the sun are good things, and [the opposite more unsightly] than all…

The saints were strangers and sojourners. How, and in what way? And where does Abraham confess that he is a stranger and sojourner? Perhaps he too confessed it; but that David confessed it is plain to everyone. Listen to him saying, “I am a stranger and sojourner, as all my fathers were.” For those who lived in tents, who bought even burial places with silver, were clearly strangers to such a degree that they did not even have a place to bury their dead. What then? Did they say that they were strangers only to that land in Palestine? Not at all, but to the whole world, and rightly; for they saw in it none of the things they wished for, but everything strange and foreign. For they wished to practice virtue; but here, where there was much wickedness, things were estranged from them; they had no friend, no kinsman, except a very few. And how were they strangers? By not caring for the things here; and this they showed not by words but by deeds themselves. How, and in what way? He said to Abraham, “Leave what seems to be your country, and come to the foreign land”; and he did not cling to his own, but left it as without attachment as one who was going to leave a foreign country. He said to him, “Offer up your son”; and he offered him up as one who had no son, as one who had put off [human] nature. He held his wealth in common with all who passed by, and thought nothing of the matter; he yielded the first place to others, threw himself into dangers, suffered countless hardships; he did not build splendid houses, nor live in luxury, nor care for clothing, nor for anything else of the things here; but he lived wholly as a citizen of the city there, showing hospitality, brotherly love, almsgiving, forbearance, contempt of money and of present glory and of all other things. And his son too was like this: driven out, fought against, he gave way and yielded, as being in a foreign land; for strangers bear whatever they suffer, since they are not in their own country. And when his wife was being taken away, he bore this too, as a stranger; and he lived wholly as a citizen of the things above, [showing self-control; for] after having children he no longer had relations with his wife; and when the prime of youth had passed, then he took her, showing that he did not do this for passion, but in service of God's promise. And what of Jacob? Did he not ask only for bread and clothing, which are truly the requests of strangers who have fallen into great poverty? Did he not, when driven out, withdraw, [suffering] hardships, wandering everywhere like a stranger? And suffering these things they bore them, showing that they were seeking another homeland. Oh, how great the difference! They were in labor every day, wishing to be freed from here and to return to their homeland; but we the opposite: for if a fever falls on us, we drop everything, like little children who whimper, and we fear death; and naturally we suffer this. For since we do not live here as strangers, nor hasten as to a homeland, but are going away as to punishment, that is why we grieve: because we have not used things [as we ought], seeking our own homeland. … but we have turned the order upside down; that is why we lament when we ought to rejoice; that is why we shudder, like murderers and robbers about to stand before a court, reckoning up everything they have done, and for that reason afraid and trembling. But those men were not like this, but were eager [to depart]; and Paul even groaned. Listen to him saying, “For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened.” Such were Abraham and his family; they were strangers, he says, to the whole world, and sought a homeland. What sort of homeland? The one they had left? Not at all; for what prevented them, if they had wished, from returning again and becoming citizens? But they sought that one in heaven. So eager were they for the departure from here, and so did they please God. “Therefore God is not ashamed of them, to be called their God.” Oh, what dignity! He consented to be called their God. What are you saying? He is called the God of the earth and God of heaven, and you have set it down as a great thing that he is not ashamed to be called their God? Great, and truly great, and a proof of great blessedness. How? Because he is called God of earth and heaven in the same way as of the Greeks too, and God of heaven and earth inasmuch as he created and fashioned them; but not so of those saints, but as a true friend. I will make it plain to you by an example. As with those in great households, when some of those set over the household are highly esteemed, very highly esteemed, and manage everything themselves, and have great freedom of speech with their masters, the master is named after them; and one could find many so named. And what do I say? Just as one could say, “God, not of the nations, but of the world,” so one could say, “the God of Abraham.” But you do not know how great this dignity is, since we do not attain to it. For just as now the Lord is called the God of all Christians, and yet the name surpasses our worth; if he were called the God of one man, think how great it is! The God of the world is not ashamed to be called the God of three; and rightly; for the saints are worth not the world only but countless such worlds. “For better is one who does the will of the Lord than countless lawless ones.” And that they called themselves strangers in this way is clear. But granted that these men said they were strangers because of the foreign land: what about David? Was he not a king? Was he not a prophet? Did he not spend his life in his own country? Why then does he say, “I am a stranger and sojourner”? How are you a stranger? “As all my fathers were,” he says. Do you see that they too were strangers? We have a homeland, he says, but not the true homeland. And how are you a stranger? Of the earth. Therefore they too were strangers of the earth; for as they were, so is he; and as he is, so were they.

Let us, then, become strangers too, even now, so that God may not be ashamed of us, to be called our God. For it is a shame to him when he is called the God of wicked men, and he himself is ashamed of them, just as he is glorified when he is [the God] of good and upright men who practice virtue. For if we refuse to be called masters of wicked slaves of ours, and disown them, and if someone comes and says, “So-and-so does countless evils; is he your slave?” we say at once, “Not at all,” wiping off the reproach (for the slave has a relation to his master, and the disgrace passes from the one to the other too), much more God. But those men were so illustrious, so full of boldness, that not only was he not ashamed to be called [God] by them, but he even said of himself, “I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” Let us too become strangers, beloved, so that God may not be ashamed of us, so that he may not be ashamed of us and hand us over to Gehenna. Such were those who said, “Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?” But see what Christ says to them: “I do not know you,” which masters might do when wicked servants run to them, wishing to wipe off the reproach. “I do not know you,” he says. How then will you punish those whom you do not know? “I do not know” is said in another sense, that is, “I disown you and reject you.” But God forbid that we should hear that ruinous and dreadful voice. For if those who cast out demons and performed prophecies were disowned because they did not have a life agreeing with their words, how much more we? “And how is it possible,” someone says, “for those who have shown prophecies and done signs and cast out demons to have become wicked?” Hence they profited nothing from their former virtue either. For one must not only have a brilliant beginning, but an even more brilliant end. For tell me, does not the orator take care to make the things at the end of his speech brilliant, so as to withdraw amid applause? And does not one who performs a public service for a city display the more brilliant things at the close of his service? The athlete, unless he shows the final bouts as more brilliant and conquers to the end, even if he has conquered all and is conquered by the last, are not all things useless to him? The helmsman, if after crossing the whole sea he dashes the boat to pieces at the harbor, has he not lost all his former labor? And what of the physician? If, having relieved the sick man of his illness, he ruins him just when he is about to free him completely, has he not ruined the whole? So too with virtue: all who have not added an end consistent with, and in harmony and accord with, the beginning have perished and been ruined. Such are those who sprang forward from the starting lines themselves brilliant and proud, but afterward grew slack and became lax; that is why … Let us listen to these things, we who love money; for this is the greatest lawlessness. “For the love of money,” it says, “is the root of all evils.” Let us listen, we who wish to make our existing property greater; let us listen, and cease from greed at last, so that we may not hear the things that those men heard. Let us hear them now and be on guard, so that we may not hear them then; let us hear them now with fear, so that we may not hear them then with punishment: “Depart from me,” he says, “I never knew you”: not even then, he says, when you were showing prophecies and casting out demons. It is likely that he is also hinting at something else here, that even then they were of a wicked life; but at the beginning grace worked even through the unworthy. For if it worked even through Balaam, much more through the unworthy, and this for the sake of those who were going to profit. And if even signs and wonders could not free them from punishment, much more, even if someone happens to be in priestly rank, even if he has reached the highest honor, even if grace works in his ordination, and in all the other things because of those who need his leadership, he too will hear, “I never knew you, not even when grace was working in you.” Oh, how great is the search for purity of life there! How it is sufficient by itself to bring us into the kingdom! How its absence betrays a man, even if he has countless wonders and signs to show! For nothing so delights God as the best way of life. “If you love me,” he says (he did not say, “Do signs,” but), “keep my commandments.” And again: “I call you friends,” not when you cast out demons, but “if you keep my words.” For those things are of God's gift, but these, after God's gift, are of our diligence as well. Let us be eager to become friends of God, and not remain enemies. We always say these things, we always exhort both ourselves and you to these things, but nothing more comes of it; that is why I am afraid. And I wished to be silent, so as not to increase the danger for you; for to hear often and not act even so is to provoke the Master; but I fear the other danger myself, that of silence, if, appointed to the ministry of the word, I should keep silent. “What then shall we do,” someone says, “to be saved?” Let us begin virtue while we have time; let us divide the virtues among ourselves, as farmers divide their farming. In this month let us master reviling, insult, unjust anger, and let us set ourselves a law and say, “Today let us accomplish this”; and in the next month let us train ourselves in forbearance, and in another, another virtue; and when we have come into the habit of this virtue, let us go on to another, as with lessons, [holding fast] what has already been acquired. … let us come to contempt of money: first let us restrain our hands from greed, and then do almsgiving; let us not simply mix everything up, robbing and showing mercy, forsooth, with the same hands. After this to another virtue, and after that to another. “Let filthiness,” he says, “and foolish talk and coarse jesting not even be named among you.” Let us accomplish these meanwhile. There is no need of expense, no need of labors, no need of sweat; it is enough only to will, and everything is done. One need not walk a long road, nor cross a boundless sea, but to be zealous … Untimely insults, anger, absurd desires, luxury, extravagance, the desire for money, let us cast out of our soul, perjuries, constant oaths. If we cultivate ourselves in this way, first pulling up the thorns and then sowing the heavenly seed, we will be able to attain the promised good things. For the farmer will come and will store us in the barn, and we shall attain all good things; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, and worship, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“By faith Abraham, [when he was tested], offered up Isaac; [and he who had received the promises was offering up his only son, of whom it was said, ‘In Isaac your seed shall be called’;] considering that God was able to raise him even from the dead; from which he also received him back as a figure.” Great indeed was Abraham's faith. For in the case of Abel and Noah and Enoch there was a battle of reasonings only, and they had to rise above human reasonings; but here it was necessary not only to rise above human reasonings, but to show something more besides. For the things of God seemed to fight with the things of God, and faith fought with faith, and command with promise. I mean something like this: he said, “[Go out] from your land and from your kindred, and I will give you this land”; “and he gave him no inheritance in it, not even a foot's length.” Do you see how what happened fought with the promise? Again he says, “In Isaac your seed shall be called,” and he believed; and again he says, “Sacrifice this one to me,” the one who was to fill the whole world from his seed. Have you seen the battle of commands and promise? He commanded things contrary to the promises, and not even so did the righteous man become dizzy, nor did he say he had been deceived. For you, he says, could not say this, that he promised rest and gave affliction; for here, what he promised, that he also does. How? “In the world,” he says, “you will have tribulation.” “Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” “Whoever does not hate his life will not find it”; and, “Whoever does not renounce all that he has and follow after me is not worthy of me”; and again, “You will be brought before governors and kings for my sake”; and again, “A man's enemies will be those of his own household.” And the things of affliction are here, the things of rest there. But in Abraham's case the opposite: he was commanded to do things contrary to the promises, and not even so [was he troubled]; but you endure nothing outside the promise, and you are troubled. He heard things contrary to what had been promised from the very one who had promised them, and was not troubled, but acted as though they agreed; and indeed they did agree: contrary to human reasonings, but in agreement by faith. And how, the apostle himself taught us, saying, “considering that God was able to raise even from the dead.” What he means is this: by the same faith, he says, by which he believed that God would grant a child who did not exist, by the same he was convinced that God would raise the dead too, and that he would raise him up after he had been slaughtered. For it was equally impossible, to human reasoning I mean, both to give a child from a dead womb, from one who had grown old and become useless for bearing children, and to raise him up after he had been slaughtered; but nevertheless he was persuaded; for the faith that had gone before prepared the way for what was to come. Besides, he saw the good things first, and the hard things later, in old age; but you, he says, the opposite: the gloomy things first, and the good things last. This is said against those who dared to say, “He promised us the good things after death; perhaps he has deceived us.” He shows that God is able to raise even from the dead; and if God is able to raise even from the dead, he will certainly repay everything. And if Abraham believed so many years before that God is able to raise from the dead, much more ought we to believe. Do you see that, as I said before, death had not yet entered, and at once he drew them into the hope of the resurrection, and brought them to such full assurance that, when commanded, they would even slaughter their own sons, and readily offer those from whom they expected to fill the world? And he shows something else here too, by saying, “God tested Abraham.” What then? Did God not know that the man was noble and approved? Very much so. Why then did he test him, if he knew? Not that he himself might learn, but that he might show others, and make his courage plain to all. And here he also shows the reason for trials, so that they might not think that they suffer these things because they have been abandoned. For here it was even necessary to be tried, because of having many persecutors and plotters; but there, what necessity was there for trials that did not exist to be devised for him? This trial, then, plainly came about at his command. The others happened with his permission, but this one also at his command. If, then, trials make people so approved that God trains his athletes even when there is no cause, much more ought we to bear everything nobly. And he said emphatically here, “By faith he offered up Isaac, when he was tested”; for there was no other cause of the offering but this. Then he goes on with the thought. He cannot say, he says, that he had another son too, and expected the promise to be fulfilled through him, and therefore offered this one with confidence. “And the one who had received the promises,” he says, “was offering his only son.” Why do you say “only son”? What then of Ishmael? Where did he come from? I say “only son,” he says, as far as concerns the promise; for that is why he added, saying “only son,” showing that it is because of him that he says, “He to whom it was said, ‘In Isaac your seed shall be called,’” that is, from him. Do you see how he admires what the patriarch did? He heard, “In Isaac your seed shall be called,” and he offered his son as a sacrifice. Then, so that no one might think that he did this in despair, and that by this command he had cast out that faith, but might learn that this too was truly an act of faith, he says that he held that faith too, though it seemed to fight with this; but it did not fight with it; for he did not measure God's power by human reasonings, but entrusted everything to faith. That is why he was not even afraid to say, “that God was able to raise even from the dead.” “From which he also received him back as a figure,” that is, as a type, in the ram, he says. How? When the ram was slaughtered, this one was saved; so that he received him back through the ram, having slaughtered that one in his place. These were types; for here it is the Son of God who is sacrificed. And see how great the love for humankind was. For since a great grace was going to be given to human beings, wishing to do it not as a favor but as a debtor, he first prepares a man to give up his own son at God's command, so that he might seem to do nothing great in giving up his own Son, since a man had done it before him; so that he might be thought to do it not only as a favor but also as a debt. For those whom we love, we wish to grant them this too: to seem to have first received some small thing from them, and so to give them everything; and we boast of the receiving rather than of the giving, and we do not say, “We gave him this,” but, “We received this from him.” “From which,” he says, “he also received him back as a figure,” that is, as in a riddle; for the ram was a figure of Isaac; or as in the type. For since the sacrifice [had been completed] and Isaac had been slaughtered [in intention], … he grants him to the patriarch.

Do you see that what I always say is shown now too? For when we present our mind detached, and show that we look down on earthly things, then he grants us earthly things too, but not before, so that we may not, by receiving, [be bound still more]. … [first free yourself] from the slavery, and then receive, so that you may no longer receive as a slave, but as a master. Despise wealth, and you will be rich; despise glory, and you will be glorious; despise vengeance on your enemies, and then you will obtain it; despise rest, and then you will receive it; so that, receiving, you may receive not as a prisoner nor as a slave, but as a free man. For just as with little children, when the child desires childish toys, we hide them with great care, a ball and such things, so that he may not be hindered from necessary things; but when he despises them and no longer desires them, we give them to him without fear, knowing that no harm comes to him from them any longer, since that desire no longer has the strength to draw him away from necessary things: so too God, when he sees that we no longer desire the things here, from then on lets us use them; for we have them as free men and adults, not as children. For that, if you despise vengeance on your enemies, you then obtain it, hear what he says: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him drink”; and he added, “For by doing this you will heap coals of fire on his head.” And again, that if you despise wealth, you then obtain it, hear Christ saying, “There is no one who has left father or mother or house or brothers who will not receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life.” And that if you despise glory, you then obtain it, hear Christ again saying, “Whoever wishes to be first among you, let him be your servant”; and again, “For whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” What are you saying? If I give my enemy drink, then I punish him? If I let go of my possessions, then I have them? If I humble myself, then I shall be lofty? Yes, he says; for such is my power: it provides contraries through contraries. I am resourceful and inventive; do not be afraid; the nature of things follows my will; I do not follow nature; I work all things; I am not [controlled] by them. And why are you surprised if this happens in such things? You will find the same thing in all the others. … [if you are wronged, then] you were not wronged; if you avenge yourself, then you have not avenged yourself, but have taken vengeance on yourself. “For whoever loves injustice,” it says, “hates his own soul.” Do you see that you do not do wrong, but have been wronged? That is why Paul too says, “Why do you not rather suffer wrong?” [Do you see] that this is not to suffer wrong? When you insult, then you have been insulted. And most people know this in part, as when they say to one another, “Let us go away from here; do not insult yourself.” Why? Because the difference between you and him is great; for whatever insults you offer, he counts as glory. Let us think of this in all cases, and we become higher than insults. How? I will tell you. If we have a quarrel with the very man who wears the purple, we think that by insulting him we insult ourselves; for when we abuse him, we too become worthy of being abused. What are you saying, tell me? Being a citizen of heaven, and possessing the philosophy from above, do you abuse yourself along with the one who thinks earthly things? For even if he possesses countless riches, even if he is in power, he does not yet know your good. Do not insult yourself by insulting him; spare yourself, not him; honor yourself, not him. Is there not such a proverb, “He who honors, honors himself”? Rightly; for he honors not the other, but himself. Hear a wise man saying, “Give your soul honor according to its worth.” What is “according to its worth”? If he has cheated, he says, do not cheat; if he has insulted, do not insult. Tell me, I beg you, if some poor man [took] the mud thrown out from your courtyard, would you set up a court against him for this? … [so as not to disgrace] yourself, so that all may not condemn you. This happens now too; for the rich man is poor, and the more he is rich, the poorer he becomes in true poverty. Gold is mud thrown out in the courtyard, not lying in your house; for your house is heaven. Will you then convene a court over this, and will not the citizens above condemn you? Will they not cast you out of their homeland, you who are so mean, so paltry, as to choose to fight over a little mud? For if the world were yours, and then someone took it, ought you to have paid it any attention? Do you not know that if you set down the world ten times, and a hundred times, and ten thousand times, and twice as much again, it is nothing compared with even the smallest part of the good things in heaven? He, then, who admires the things here has insulted those, if indeed he thinks these worth his zeal, though they fall so far short of those; or rather, he will not even be able to admire those; for how could he, being infatuated with these? Let us cut through, at long last, I beg you, the ropes and the nets; for that is what earthly things are. How long shall we stoop to the ground? How long shall we plot against one another, like wild beasts, like fish? Or rather, wild beasts do not plot against one another, but against other kinds; for example, a bear does not readily kill a bear, nor does a snake kill a snake, respecting its own kind; but you, though you have with your own kind countless claims, kinship, reason, the knowledge of God, the strength of nature, countless other things, kill your kinsman who shares the same nature, and surround him with countless evils. For what if you do not thrust in the sword, nor plunge your right hand into his neck? You do other things worse than this, surrounding him with constant griefs. For if you had done that, you would have freed him from care; but as it is you surround him with hunger and slavery, with despair and many other sins. I say these things, and I will not stop saying them, not to prepare you to murder, nor urging you to go to this as to a lesser evil than that, but so that you may not be confident, as though you will not pay the penalty. “For whoever takes away his neighbor's living and bread,” it says, “murders him.” Let us restrain our hands at last, I beg you, let us restrain them; or rather, let us not restrain them, but stretch them out well, not for greed but for almsgiving; let us not have a fruitless hand, nor a withered one; for the hand that does not give alms is withered, and the one that is greedy is foul and unclean. Let no one eat with such hands; for this is an insult to those invited. For tell me, if someone made us recline on linen cloths in a splendid and great house, and set a great crowd of servants by, and then prepared a table of silver and gold and filled it with many costly and varied dishes, and compelled us to eat, if only we would put up with his smearing his hands with mud or even human dung, and reclining with us so, would anyone bear this punishment, or would he not think the thing an insult? I think so, and he would leap up at once. But now you see not only the hands full of real filth, but the dishes themselves too, and you do not leap away, you do not flee, you do not rebuke; but if he is in power, you even count it a great thing, and you destroy your own soul eating such things. For greed is worse than any filth; for it defiles not the body but the soul, and makes it hard to wash clean. You, then, seeing the one reclining stained with this filth, both his hands and his face, and the house filled, and the table filled (for those dishes are more unclean and foul than cow dung or anything worse), are you disposed as though you were honored and about to feast? And do you not fear Paul, who allows us to go without hindrance to the table of Greeks, if we wish, but does not let us go to that of the greedy even if we wish? “For if anyone who is called a brother,” he says, “is sexually immoral”; here he calls a brother simply every believer, not the monk. For what is it that makes brotherhood? The washing of regeneration, being able to call God Father. So the catechumen, even if he is a monk, is not a brother; but the believer, even if he is a layman, is a brother. “If anyone,” he says, “who is called a brother.” For there was not yet any trace of the monk then, but this blessed man addressed everything to people in the world. “If anyone,” he says, “who is called a brother is sexually immoral, or greedy, or a drunkard, with such a one do not even eat.” But not so with the Greeks; but what? “If any of the unbelievers invites you,” meaning the Greeks, “and you wish to go, eat whatever is set before you.” “If anyone who is called [a brother],” he says, “is a drunkard.”

Oh, how great the strictness! But we not only do not flee drunkards, but even go to them to share in what they offer. That is why everything has been turned upside down, everything confounded and overturned and ruined. For tell me, if one of these men invited you, who are thought poor and of no account, to a prepared banquet, and then heard from you, “Since the things set before me come from greed, I will not put up with defiling my own soul,” would he not have been abashed? Would he not have been put to shame? Would he not have been confounded? So that he would have called himself wretched for his wealth, and admired you for your poverty, if he saw himself despised by you with such earnestness. But we have become slaves of men, I do not know how, though Paul cries up and down, “Do not become slaves of men.” How then have we become slaves of men? Because we first became slaves of the belly and of money and of glory and of all other things; we betrayed the freedom that Christ granted us. What then awaits one who has become a slave, tell me? Hear Christ saying, “The slave does not remain in the house forever.” You have a final sentence, that he never enters the kingdom; for that is the house: “For in my Father's house,” he says, “are many dwelling places.” “The slave, then, does not remain in the house forever.” By a slave he means here the slave of sin; and the one who does not [remain] in the house forever remains in Gehenna forever, having comfort from nowhere. But things have come to such a pitch of wickedness that they even give alms from these [gains], and many accept them. That is why our boldness has been cut off, and we cannot rebuke anyone. But nevertheless, even from now on, let us flee the harm that comes from this; and you who wallow in this filth, cease from such defilement; and you, check your eagerness for such banquets; if perhaps even now we may be able to propitiate God and attain the promised good things; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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.

“By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau even concerning things to come. By faith Jacob, [when dying], blessed each of the sons of Joseph, and bowed in worship upon the top of his staff. By faith Joseph, at his end, [made mention] of the exodus of the sons of Israel, and gave orders concerning his bones.” … [Many prophets and righteous men desired] to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. So did the righteous know all the things to come? Very much so. For even if, because of the weakness of those who could not receive him, the Son was not revealed, to those who shone in virtue he was naturally revealed. This, then, is what Paul too says, that they knew the things to come, that is, the resurrection of Christ. Either, then, he means this, or “by faith concerning things to come” means not concerning the age to come, but concerning things that were to happen later here. For if it were not this, how could a man living in a foreign land give such blessings? And how again did he obtain a blessing and not receive it? Do you see that, as I said, in the case of Abraham and of Jacob one can say that he did not enjoy the blessing, but the blessings passed to his descendants, while he himself obtained the things to come? For we find that his brother enjoyed more. For the one spent his whole time in slavery and hired service and dangers and plots and deceits and fears, and when asked by Pharaoh he says, “Few and evil have the days of my life been”; while the other lived in security and great authority, and afterward was a terror to him. Where then were the blessings fulfilled, if not in the future? Do you see that from the beginning the wicked enjoyed the things here, and the righteous the opposite? Not all, however. For see, Abraham was righteous and enjoyed even the things here, but with affliction and trials; for he had wealth only, since everything else of his was full of affliction. For it is not possible for the righteous man not to be afflicted, even if he is rich; for when he chooses to be cheated, to be wronged, to suffer the rest, he must be afflicted. So even if he enjoys wealth, it is not without grief. Why? Because he is in affliction and pain. And if the righteous were in affliction then, much more now. “By faith concerning things to come,” he says, “Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau.” And yet Esau was the elder; but he puts Jacob first because of his virtue. Do you see how great his faith was? For from where did he promise his sons such great good things, if not from believing God completely? “By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph.” Here one ought to set out all the blessings, so that his faith and prophecy may become plain. “And he bowed in worship,” he says, “upon the top of his staff.” Here he shows that he not only spoke, but was so confident of what was to come that he even showed it by the act itself. For since another king was going to arise from Ephraim, that is why he says, “And he bowed in worship upon the top of his staff”; that is, though already an old man, he bowed to Joseph, showing the worship that the whole people would give him. And this had already come to pass when his brothers bowed to him, and was going to come to pass later through the ten tribes. Do you see how he foretold what would happen later? Do you see what faith they had? How they believed in what was to come? Some examples here are of endurance only, of present things, of suffering evil and receiving no good, as with Abraham, as with Abel; others of faith, as with Noah: that God exists, that there is a recompense. For “faith” is a word of many meanings; now it means this, now that; here it signifies both that there is a recompense, and that not all are to expect it on the same terms, and that one must contend before the prizes. And the case of Joseph too belongs to faith alone. For Joseph heard that God had promised Abraham, that he had pledged, “To you and to your seed I will give this land”; and though he was in a foreign land and did not yet see the promise fulfilled, not even so did he lose heart, but believed so firmly that he even spoke of the exodus and gave orders about his bones. So not only did he himself believe, but he also led the others into faith. That is why he gives the order, so that they might always remember the exodus; and he would not have given orders about his bones unless he had been fully assured that the return would take place. So when some say, “See, even the righteous cared about tombs,” let us say to them that it was for this reason, and for no other at all; for he knew that “the earth is the Lord's and its fullness.” A man who had lived in such philosophy would not have been ignorant of this, he who had lived all his time in Egypt. And yet it was possible for him, if he had wished, to go back, and not to grieve or be distressed. But having brought his father up there [for burial], why did he command that his own bones too be carried up from there, if not clearly for this reason?

Tell me, do not the bones of Moses himself lie in a foreign land? And those of Aaron, of Daniel, of Jeremiah? And as for the apostles, we do not even know where most of them lie. For the tombs of Peter and Paul and John and Thomas are known; but of the others, so many as they are, they have nowhere become known. Let us not, then, beat our breasts about this, nor be so small-souled; for wherever we are buried, “the earth is the Lord's and its fullness.” What must happen surely happens; but to mourn and beat the breast and lament for the departed comes from smallness of soul. “[By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden three months by his] parents.” Do you see that they hoped for the things after death here on earth? And many things came to pass after their death. This is said against those who say, … that these things happen to them after death which they did not obtain while living, … nor did they believe [they would happen] after death. And Joseph did not say, “He did not give me the land while I was alive, nor my father, nor my grandfather, whose virtue too he ought to have respected; and will he grant these wicked men what he did not grant them?” He said none of these things, but by faith he both conquered and surmounted all these things. He has named Abel, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, all of them renowned and admirable; again he increases the encouragement by bringing the matter down to undistinguished persons. For for admirable persons to suffer this is nothing remarkable, and to appear inferior to them is not so terrible; but to appear inferior even to nameless people, this is the terrible thing. And he begins with the parents of Moses, obscure people, who had nothing so great as their child. That is why, as he goes on, he increases the incongruity, listing even harlots and widows: “By faith,” he says, “Rahab the harlot did not perish with those who disobeyed, having received the spies with peace.” And he sets down not only the rewards of faith but also those of unbelief, as with Noah. But meanwhile we must speak about the parents of Moses. Pharaoh ordered all the males to be destroyed, and no one escaped the danger. From where, then, did these expect to save the child? From faith. What faith? “They saw,” he says, “that the child was beautiful.” This sight drew them to faith. So from the beginning and from the very swaddling clothes much grace was poured upon the righteous man, not nature but God bringing this about. For consider: as soon as he was born the child appears handsome, and not ugly. Whose doing was this? Not nature's, but the grace of God, which also roused and strengthened that barbarian woman, the Egyptian, and won her and drew her over. And yet faith did not have sufficient ground in their case; for what was there to believe from the sight? But you, he says, believe from deeds, and have many pledges of faith; for to accept the plundering of your possessions with joy, and all such things, is of faith and endurance. But since these too believed and then grew faint-hearted, he shows that the faith of those men extended far, like that of Abraham, although the facts seemed to fight against it. “And they were not afraid,” he says, “of the king's edict.” And yet that edict was being carried out, while this was merely a bare expectation. And this was the parents' part; Moses himself contributed nothing. Then again he mentions another example akin to them, or rather greater than that one. Which is this? “By faith,” he says, “Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer ill together with the people of God than to have the temporary enjoyment of sin, considering the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt; for he looked to the reward.” As if he were saying to them: none of you has left palaces, and splendid palaces, or such treasures, nor, when he might have been a king's son, despised this, as Moses did. And that he did not simply leave them he made clear by saying, “He refused,” that is, he hated, he turned away. For when heaven was set before him, it was superfluous to admire the palaces of Egypt. And see how wonderfully Paul has put it. He did not say, “Considering heaven and the things in heaven greater riches than the treasures in Egypt,” but what? “The reproach of Christ.” For he thought it better to be reproached for Christ than to be at ease; so this too in itself was a reward. “Choosing rather,” he says, “to suffer ill together with the people of God.” For you suffer for your own sakes, but he chose for the sake of others, and willingly threw himself into such great dangers, when he could both be godly and enjoy good things. “Than to have the temporary,” he says, “enjoyment of sin.” He called sin not being willing to suffer ill together with the others; this, he says, he considered sin. If, then, he considered it sin not to suffer ill readily together with the others, suffering ill must be a great good, since he threw himself into it from the palace. And he did these things foreseeing some great things; that is why he spoke thus: “considering the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt.” What is “the reproach of Christ”? That is, being reproached with the same things as you, the reproach that Christ endured; or that he endured it for Christ's sake, when he was reviled about the rock from which he brought out water; “and the rock,” he says, “was Christ.” And how is it the reproach of Christ? Because we are reproached for spitting on our ancestral ways, because we suffer ill for having run to God. And it is likely that he too was reproached when he heard, “Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian yesterday?” This is the reproach of Christ: to suffer ill to the end and to the last breath, as he himself was reproached and heard, “If you are the Son of God,” from those for whom he was being crucified, from those of his own tribe. This is the reproach of Christ, when someone is reproached by his own people, by those he benefits; for he too suffered these things from the one he had benefited. Here he raised them up, showing that both Christ and Moses suffered these things, two glorious persons; so that this reproach is Christ's more than Moses', since he suffered such things from his own. But neither did the one suffer anything [in return], nor did the other hurl thunderbolts, but he was reproached and bore everything while they shook their heads. Since, then, it was likely that they too heard such things and longed for recompense, he says that both Christ and Moses suffered such things. So then ease belongs to sin, but being reproached belongs to Christ. Which do you want: the reproach of Christ, or ease? “By faith he left [Egypt, not fearing the anger of the king]; for he endured as seeing him who is invisible.” What are you saying? That he was not afraid? And yet Scripture says this, that when he heard he was afraid, and for this reason sought safety in flight, … and afterward was very fearful. Attend carefully to what is said: he said “not fearing the anger of the king” with reference to his taking his stand again. For it would have been the part of a fearful man not to take up the leadership again, nor to put his hand to the matter; but to take it up again was the part of one who entrusted everything to God. For he did not say, “He is seeking me and busying himself about me, and I cannot bear to take up the same things again.” So even the flight was of faith. “Why then did he not stay?” someone says. So as not to throw himself into obvious danger. For this would be the part of one tempting [God]: to leap into the midst of dangers and say, “Let me see whether God saves me.” This is what the devil said to Christ: “Throw yourself down.” Do you see that this is devilish: to throw oneself into dangers rashly and in vain, and to test whether God saves? For since they would no longer allow him to lead them, it was foolish and senseless to remain there. And all these things happened because he endured as seeing the invisible one. If, then, we too always see God with our mind, if we always turn our understanding in remembrance of him, all things will seem to us very easy, all things bearable; we shall bear all things readily, we shall become superior to all. For if someone who sees a person he loves, or rather who merely remembers him, is roused in soul and becomes lofty in mind and bears all things easily, delighting in the memory, will the one who has in his mind, and remembers, him who has truly deigned to love us, ever feel anything painful, or fear anything fearful and dangerous? When will he be faint-hearted? Never. For everything seems hard to us because we do not keep the memory of God as we ought, because we do not carry him about in our mind continually; for he might justly say to us, “You have forgotten me; I too will forget you.” So the evil becomes twofold: we both forget him, and he forgets us. For these are two things, intertwined with each other, but two nevertheless. For it is a great thing for God to be mindful of us, and a great thing for him to be remembered by us; this makes us choose the good things, and that brings them to completion and to the end. That is why the prophet says, “I will remember you from the land of the Jordan and of Hermon, from the little mountain.” This is said by the people in Babylon: “There, when we remembered [Zion]…” Let us too, then, as though we were in Babylon, say the same things. For even if we do not sit among enemy soldiers, we are among enemies. For some sat as captives, while others did not even feel the captivity, like Daniel, like the three youths, who, though in captivity, became more illustrious in that very land than the very king who had taken them captive; for the captor bowed down to the captives. Have you seen how great a thing virtue is? He served those who were in captivity as masters. So he was the captive rather than they. It would not have been so wonderful if he had come and bowed down to them while they were in their own homeland, reigning there; but the wonderful thing is that, having bound them and taken them captive and holding them in his own power, he was not ashamed, before the eyes of all, to bow down and to offer [them] grain offering and libation. Do you see that the truly splendid things are those that are according to God, and human things are a shadow? So he did not know that he was bringing home masters for himself, and he cast into the furnace those to whom he was going to bow down; but these things were like a dream to them. Let us fear God, then, beloved, let us fear him; even if we are in captivity, we shall be more illustrious than all. Let the fear of God be present, and nothing will be painful, whether you name poverty, or disease, or captivity, or slavery, or any painful thing whatever; but these very things will work together for us toward the opposite. These men were captives, and the king bowed down to them; Paul was a tentmaker, and they sacrificed to him as to a god. Here a question arises; for many ask, saying, “Why did the apostles [tear their clothes] and stop them from the attempt, and cried out, saying, ‘What are you doing? We too are men of like nature with you,’ while Daniel did nothing of the kind?” For that he too was humble, and referred the glory to God no less than they, is clear from many things. First and above all, this is clear from his very being loved by God; for he would not have let him live, let alone prosper, if he had appropriated God's honor; second, because he said with great boldness, “And to me, O king, this mystery has been revealed not by any wisdom that is in me”; and third again, because he was in the den for God's sake; and when the prophet brought him food, he says, “For God has remembered me”; so humble and contrite was he. He was in the den for God's sake, and he thought himself unworthy of being remembered and heard. But we, who dare countless foul things and are fouler than all, if we are not heard at the first prayer, [draw back]. Truly the difference between them and us is great, as great as heaven from the earth, and more. What are you saying? After so many great deeds, after the miracle in the den, do you think yourself so lowly? Yes, he says; for whatever we do, we are unprofitable servants. Thus anticipating it, he fulfilled the gospel command and thought himself nothing. “For God has remembered me,” he said. And see again how full of humility his prayer is. So too the three youths said, “We have sinned, we have acted lawlessly,” and everywhere they show their lowliness. And yet Daniel had countless occasions for being exalted; but he knew that these too had come to him from not being exalted, and he did not ruin the treasure. For above all men and in the whole world they were celebrated not only for this, that the king threw himself on his face and offered libation to him, but that he whom everyone on earth honored as a god thought him a god; for he ruled over all [the earth]. And this is clear from Jeremiah: “He wraps himself in the land,” it says, “as in a garment”; and again, “I have given it to Nebuchadnezzar my servant.” And from what he writes in his letters this again is clear, that he was admired not only there, where he was, but everywhere, and he was greater when heard of than if the other nations had seen him present, since he confessed his servitude and the miracle in writing. But he was admired again for his wisdom too: “Are you wiser than Daniel?” it says. And after all this he was so humble as to [be ready] to die countless times for the Master.

Why then, being so humble, did he not refuse either the king's worship or the libations? This I will not say; for it is enough for me only to state the question; the rest I leave to you, so that in this way at least I may rouse your minds. This, however, I urge: to choose everything for the sake of the fear of God, since we have such examples; and that we shall truly obtain even the things here, if we genuinely lay hold of the things to come. For that he did not do this from pride is clear from his saying, “Let your gifts be for yourself.” For this again is another question: how, refusing in word, he accepted the honor in deed and wore the chain. And Herod, when he heard, “The voice of a god, and not of a man,” because he did not give glory to God, burst open and his bowels poured out; but this man accepted even the honor due to God, not words only. Here it is necessary to say what this is: that from that [course] people would fall into greater idolatry, but from this not so. How? For him to be thought such a one was an honor to God; for this is why he had said beforehand, “And to me it was revealed not by any wisdom that is in me.” Besides, he does not appear to have accepted the libations; for [the king] said, it says, that they must offer libation, but it has not become clear that the deed followed. But there [at Lystra] they brought bulls to sacrifice, and called the one Zeus and the other Hermes. He accepted the chain, then, so as to make himself known; but why does he not appear to have refused the libation? For there too they did not do it, but attempted it, and the apostles prevented it; so here too he should have refused at once; and there it was a whole populace, here a tyrant. Why then did he not stop him? As I said before, he was not offering libation as to a god to overturn the worship [of God], but on account of a greater miracle. How? Because he issued a decree for God's sake, confessing his lordship; so that he did not mutilate the honor [due to God]. But those men did not do so, but thought them to be the gods themselves… Besides, it is only after having bowed down here that he does these things; for he did not bow down as to a god, but as to a wise man. And it is not clear that he offered libation; and if he did, Daniel did not accept it. And what of his calling him Belteshazzar too, the name of his god? So little did they think their gods anything wonderful, since he who commanded everyone to worship the image, many-colored and variegated, and who revered the dragon, called a captive by that name. And the Babylonians were much more senseless than those in Lystra; that is why it was not possible to lead them to this at once. And one could say much; but for now this is enough. If, then, we wish to obtain all good things, let us seek the things that are according to God. For just as those who seek the things of the world fall short both of these and of those, so those who prefer the things according to God obtain both. Let us not, then, seek these things any longer, but those, so that we may also obtain the promised good things, in Christ Jesus our Lord…

“By faith he kept the Passover and the pouring of the blood, so that the destroyer of the firstborn [might not touch them. By faith they crossed] the Red Sea as by dry land; and when the Egyptians attempted it, they were swallowed up. By faith [the walls of Jericho fell … By faith Rahab the harlot did not perish with] those who disobeyed, having received the spies with peace.” Paul is accustomed to work in many things by the way, and he is dense in his thoughts. For such is the grace of the Spirit: it does not hold few thoughts in a multitude of words, but places a great and abundant meaning in brevity of expression. See, at any rate, how, while in the course of exhortation and speaking about faith, he reminds them of what type and mystery, the reality of which we possess. “By faith,” he says, “he kept the Passover and the pouring of the blood, so that the destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them.” And what is “the pouring of the blood”? A lamb was sacrificed in each house, and its blood was smeared on the doorposts, and this was a wall against the Egyptian destruction. If, then, the blood of a lamb kept the Jews unharmed in the midst of the Egyptians and in so great a destruction, much more will the blood of Christ save us, smeared not on the doorposts but on our souls. For even now the destroyer goes about in this deep night. But let us arm ourselves with that sacrifice. He calls the anointing a “pouring”; for God led us out of Egypt, out of darkness, out of idolatry. And yet what was done was nothing, but what was accomplished was great; for what was done was blood, but what was accomplished was salvation, a barrier and a hindrance to destruction. The angel feared the blood; for he knew whose type it was; he shuddered, thinking of the Master's death; that is why he did not touch the doorposts. Moses said … And you, who have the blood of the Lamb himself, are you not confident? “By faith they crossed the Red Sea as by dry land.” Again he sets a whole people beside a people, so that they may not say, “We cannot become like the saints.” “By faith,” he says, “they crossed the Red Sea as by dry land; and when the Egyptians attempted it, they were swallowed up.” Here he also brings them to the remembrance of their sufferings in Egypt. How by faith? Because they hoped to cross through the sea, and for that reason they prayed; or rather it was Moses who prayed. Do you see that everywhere faith surpasses human reasonings, and weakness and lowliness? Do you see that at the same time they believed and feared the punishment, both in the blood on the doors and at the Red Sea? And it was shown that it was water by those who fell in and were drowned, and that it was not an illusion but reality. And just as in the case of the lions those who were devoured showed the reality of the facts, and in the case of the furnace those who were burned, so now too you see the same things turning out for some to salvation and renown, for others to destruction. Such a good thing is faith: for when we fall into helplessness, then we are delivered, even if we come to death itself, even if our affairs are [quenched]. For what else was left? Egyptians and sea surrounded them unarmed, and they had either to be drowned as they fled, or to fall into the hands of the Egyptians. But nevertheless he saved them out of a hopeless situation; the same water was spread beneath some like land, and drowned others like sea; there it forgot its nature, here it even armed itself against them. “By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after they had been encircled for seven days.” For surely the sound of trumpets cannot throw down stones, even if one blows trumpets for countless years; but faith can do all things.

Do you see that everywhere [nature] is not changed by sequence or by the law of nature, but that everything happens beyond expectation? So here too everything happens beyond expectation. For since he had been saying up and down that one must believe the hopes to come, he naturally set all this discourse in motion, showing that not now only, but from the beginning, all the miracles were accomplished and achieved through it. “By faith Rahab the harlot did not perish with those who disobeyed, having received the spies with peace.” … Yet that woman heard the men announcing it and at once believed. Therefore the end followed too; for when all perished, she alone was saved. She did not say to herself, “I shall be with my many people”; she did not say, “Can I be wiser than so many intelligent men who disbelieve, and shall I believe?” Nothing of the kind, which another would likely have both said and felt, but she believed what was said. “And what more shall I say? For time will fail me if I tell.” He no longer sets down the names, but having ended with the harlot, and shamed them by the kind of person she was, he no longer expands the histories, so as not to seem long-winded; yet he does not leave them aside, but runs through them very sensibly, keeping both: avoiding satiety and not spoiling the density; he neither was wholly silent nor became wearisome in speaking, but does both. For when someone [presses] the hearer hard, once persuaded, he becomes wearisome and gets a reputation for showing off; for one must adapt oneself to what is profitable. “And what more shall I say?” he says. “For time will fail me if I tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David and Samuel, and the prophets.” Some find fault with Paul because he puts Barak and Samson and Jephthah in these places. What are you saying? He who set down the harlot, will he not set down these? For do not tell me about the rest of their life, but [ask] whether they did not believe and shine by faith. “And of the prophets,” he says, “who through faith conquered kingdoms.” Do you see that he does not here bear witness to a brilliant life for them? For this was not the primary question, but for the present it was an examination of faith. For tell me, did they not accomplish everything by faith? How? “Through faith,” he says, “they conquered kingdoms”: Gideon and his companions. “They worked righteousness.” Who? These same men; or else by righteousness here he meant love for humankind. “They obtained promises.” I think he says this about David. And what promises did he obtain? Those of which he said that his seed would sit upon [his throne … They stopped the mouths of lions, quenched] the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword. See how they were in the very jaws of death: Daniel surrounded by the lions, the three youths spending time in the furnace, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob in various trials; and not even so did they despair. For this is faith: when things turn out to the contrary, then one must believe that nothing contrary has happened, but everything is consistent. “They escaped the edge of the sword.” Again I think he speaks of the three youths. “They were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight.” Here he hints at the return from Babylon. “Out of weakness,” he says, that is, out of captivity. When the cause of the Jews had already been despaired of, when they were no different from dead bones, then the return came about for them. For who would have hoped that they would not only return from Babylon, but also become strong and put foreign armies to flight? “But nothing of the kind happened to us,” someone says. But these are types of the things to come. “Women received their dead by resurrection.” Here he speaks of the things concerning the prophets, Elisha and Elijah; for they raised the dead. “And others were beaten to death, not accepting release, so that they might obtain a better resurrection.” “But we have not obtained a resurrection.” But I can show you, he says, those too who were beheaded and would not accept [release], so that they might obtain a better resurrection. For why, tell me, when they could have lived, did they not wish to? Was it not because they expected a better life? And those who raised others chose themselves to die, so as to obtain a better resurrection, not such as the children of the women. Here he seems to me to hint at John too, and at James; for beheading is called “beating to death.” They could have seen the sun, they could have refrained from rebuking; and nevertheless they chose to die; and those who raised others chose themselves to die, so that they might obtain a better resurrection. “And others experienced mockings and scourgings, and further bonds and prison. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tested.” He ends with these, with the things closer to them. For these things above all bring encouragement, when the grief is from the same cause; since even if you speak of something more severe, but it does not arise from the same cause, you have accomplished nothing. That is why he closed his discourse with this, speaking of bonds, prisons, scourgings, stonings, hinting at the case of Stephen and that of Zechariah; that is why he added, “They died by the murder of the sword.” What are you saying? Some escaped the edge of the sword, and others died by the murder of the sword? What is this? Which do you praise, which do you admire, this or that? Yes, he says, both this and that: this because it is akin to you; that because faith prevailed even against death itself, and it is a type of the things to come. For there are two wonders of faith: that it both accomplishes great things and suffers great things, and that it thinks it suffers nothing. And you cannot say, he says, that they were some sinners …; I find them outweighing the [world] and more precious. That is why he spoke thus: “Of whom the world was not worthy.” What then were they going to receive here, those of whom nothing in the world was worthy? Here he raises their minds, teaching them not to be nailed to present things, but to think greater thoughts than all the things of the present life, since the whole world is not worthy of them. What then do you want to receive here? For it is an insult if you receive your reward here. Let us not, then, think worldly thoughts, nor seek the recompense here, nor be so poor; for if the whole world is not worthy of them, why do you seek a part? And rightly; for they are friends of God. By “the world” here he means either the multitude or creation itself; for Scripture knows how to say both. If all creation together with mankind, he says, were set against these, they would not yet appear of equal worth with them; and rightly. For just as countless weights of chaff and grass would not be worth ten pearls, so neither those. “For better is one who does the will of the Lord than countless lawless ones”: by “countless” he means not the many, but the infinite multitude. Consider how great the righteous man is. Joshua the son of Nun said, “Let the sun stand still over Gibeon, and the moon over the valley of Aijalon,” and it happened. Let the whole world come, then, or rather two and three and four and ten and twenty worlds, and let them say and do this; but they will not be able. But the friend of God gave orders to the creatures of his friend, or rather he called on his friend, and the servants yielded, and the one below gave commands to those above. Do you see that these things were made for service, fulfilling their appointed course? This is greater than the deeds of Moses. Why? For it is not equal to command the sea and the things in heaven; for that too was great, very great, but nevertheless not equal. And hear from where he became such a man. Why? The name of Joshua was a type of Christ. For this reason, then, since he had such a name in type, being called Jesus, creation reverenced the very title. What then? Was no other called Jesus? But this man was called so for this purpose, in type; for he was also called Hoshea; that is why his name was changed; for it was a prediction and prophecy. This man led the people into the promise, as Jesus [leads us] into heaven; not the law, just as not Moses either, but he remained outside; the law cannot bring in, but grace. Do you see the types sketched out from of old? He gave orders to creation, or rather to the chief part of creation, to the very head, while he stood below; so that when you see Jesus in human form saying the same things, you may not be troubled … This man [turned back] the enemies [while Moses was still living]; [so Jesus], while the law is still alive, governs all things, but not openly. But let us see how great the virtue of the saints is.

If here they work such things, if here they do the things that the angels do, what then there? How great a splendor do they have? Perhaps each of you would wish to be such as to be able to give orders to [the sun and the moon] … but nothing equal. Why? The name was a type of Jesus. For this reason, then, also the title itself … to the sun and the moon. Here, what would those who say that heaven is a sphere say to this? For why did he not say, “Let the sun stand still,” but added, “Let the sun stand still over Gibeon, and the moon over the valley of Aijalon”? That is, let it make the day longer. This happened in the case of Hezekiah too; for the sun went back. But that was more wonderful than this: to go back again the opposite way, before it had completed its course. But we shall obtain greater things than these, if we wish. For what did Christ promise us? Not that he would stop the sun or the moon, nor make the sun go back, but what? “We will come to him,” he says, “I and the Father, and make our dwelling with him.” What need have I of sun and moon and these wonders, when the Master of all himself comes down and settles with me? I do not need this. For what need do I have of any of these things? He himself will be to me sun and moon and light. For tell me, which would you want when you enter a palace: to be able to rearrange some of the fixed things there, or to make the king so much your own as to persuade him to come and stay with you? Is not the latter far more than the former? What then? Is it not wonderful if a man commands the things that Christ also commands? “But Christ,” someone says, “does not ask the Father, but acts with authority.” Good; then first confess and say that he does not ask the Father, and acts with authority; and then I will ask you again, or rather I will teach you about the prayer that he makes, that it was a matter of condescension and economy (for Christ was certainly not less than Joshua son of Nun), and of his being able to teach us … without prayer. For just as when you hear a teacher lisping and listing the letters, you do not say that he does not know them, and when he asks, “Where is this letter?” you know that he asks not from ignorance, but wishing to lead the pupil on, so too Christ, not needing prayer, made the prayer, wishing to lead you on, so that you may attend to prayer continually, unceasingly, soberly, and make it with much wakefulness. And by wakefulness I do not mean only rising at night, but also being sober in prayers during the day; for such a person is called wakeful. Since it is possible both to sleep while praying at night, and to be wakeful in the daytime while not praying, when the soul is intent upon God, when it considers with whom it is speaking, to whom its words are addressed, when it bears in mind that angels stand by with trembling and fear, [while] he himself … Prayer is a great weapon, if it is made with the proper mind. And so that you may learn its power, consider this: constant entreaty prevailed over shamelessness and injustice and cruelty and recklessness: “For hear,” he says, “what the unjust judge says.” And again it prevailed over sloth; and what friendship did not do, constant entreaty did: “Even if he will not give to him because he is his friend, yet because of his persistence he will get up and give him.” And constant attendance made one who was unworthy worthy: “It is not good,” he says, “to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.” And she said, “Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs eat from the table of their masters.”

Let us attend, then, to prayer: it is a great weapon, if it is made with earnestness, if without vainglory, if with a sincere soul. It has routed enemies; it has benefited a whole and unworthy nation: “I have heard,” he says, “their groaning, and I have come down to deliver them.” It is a saving medicine, a preventive of sins, a cure of offenses; to it the widow too who was left alone devoted herself. If, then, we pray with humility, if, beating our breast like the tax collector, we utter what he uttered, if we say, “Be merciful to me, the sinner,” we shall obtain everything. For even if we are not tax collectors, we have other sins not less than his. For do not tell me that you have sinned in some small thing; for the thing has the same nature. For just as one who kills a child and one who kills a man are alike called murderers, so too the greedy man, whether he takes much or little. And resentment too is not a small sin, but a great one: “For the ways of the resentful,” it says, “lead to death”; and, “Whoever is angry with his brother without cause will be liable to Gehenna”; and whoever calls his brother a fool and senseless, and all such things. And we also partake of the awesome mysteries unworthily, and we envy and revile; and some of us have often been drunk. And each of these by itself is enough to cast us out of the kingdom; but when they are all brought together, what defense shall we have? We need much repentance, beloved, much prayer, much endurance, much perseverance, so that we may be able to obtain the good things promised to us. Let us too, then, say, “Be merciful to me, the sinner”; or rather, let us not only say it, but also think so; and if someone else accuses us, let us not be angry. That man heard, “I am not like this tax collector,” and was not provoked, but was pricked to the heart; he accepted the reproach and laid aside the disgrace. The one named the wound; the other sought the medicine. Let us, then, say, “Be merciful to me, the sinner”; but if another says it, let us not be indignant. But if we say countless evils of ourselves, yet are annoyed when we hear them from others, this is no longer humility nor confession, but display and vainglory. “Is it display,” someone says, “to call oneself a sinner?” Yes; for it gains [a reputation for] humility; but if we call ourselves the opposite, we are despised. So we do even this for the sake of glory. And what is humility? To bear it when another reproaches us, to acknowledge the sin, to bear evil-speaking. And not even this would be humility, but fair-mindedness. But now we call ourselves sinners, unworthy, any number of things; but if someone else lays one of these against us, we are angry … [Is this] humility, or even fair-mindedness? You said you were such a one; do not be indignant when you hear it from others and are reproved; in this way your sins are lightened, when others reproach you; for they lay a burden on themselves, but they lead you to philosophy. Hear what the blessed David says when Shimei was cursing him: “Let him alone,” he says; “the Lord has commanded him, so that he may see my humiliation; and the Lord will repay me with good for his cursing this day.” But you, when you speak of yourself even to the point of excessive evils, [are enraged] unless you hear from others the praises of the great righteous. Do you see that you are playing in matters not fit for play? For we refuse praises out of desire for other praises, so as to obtain greater commendations again, so as to be admired more. So that when we do not accept the praises [due to] the great and righteous, we do it in order to increase them; and everything is done by us for glory, not for truth. That is why all is empty, all without resource. Therefore I beg you, even now, to stand apart from the mother of evils, vainglory, and to live according to what seems good to God, so that we may also obtain the good things to come, in Christ Jesus our Lord.

“They went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, mistreated, of whom this world was not worthy, wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and the holes [of the earth].” Always, but above all when I consider the achievements of the saints, it comes over me to despair of my own state, because we have not experienced even in a dream the things in which those men spent their whole time, not paying the penalty for sins, but always doing right and always being afflicted. For consider Elijah, about whom our discourse sounded today; for it is about him that he says here, “They went about in sheepskins,” and he ends his examples with him, not leaving even this aside, which was akin to them. And having spoken of the things concerning the apostles, that they died by the murder of the sword, that they were stoned, he goes back again to Elijah, who suffered the same things as they. For since it was likely that they did not yet have so high an opinion of the apostles, he brings [the example] from the one who was taken up and especially admired: “They went about,” he says, “in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, mistreated, of whom this world was not worthy.” They did not even have a garment, [nor] a city, nor a house, nor a lodging; this is what Christ said: “But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Why do I say not a lodging? Not even a place to stand; for not even when they had reached the desert did they have quiet; for he did not say, “They sat in the desert,” but even when they were there they fled and were driven from there too, not only from the inhabited world but even from the uninhabited. And he reminds them of places where they sat, and of things that happened there: “Destitute, afflicted.” Then, he says, they accused you because of Christ; and what accusation did they have to make against Elijah when they did these things to him? They drove him away and persecuted him and forced him to wrestle with hunger. Which these too then suffered; that is why he said elsewhere, “The brothers determined to send to those of the disciples who were afflicted; for according as each was prospering, they determined, each of them, to send for relief to the brothers living in Judea.” Which was their case too. And in journeys, in dangers, which was their case too. And what is “they went about”? “Wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and the holes of the earth.” It indicates nothing other than this: that they went about like fugitives and like those not even worthy to see the sun, and they did not find refuge even in the desert, but they had always to flee, had to seek hiding places, had to bury themselves alive in the earth, always to be in fear. “And all these, though attested through faith, did not receive the promise, since God had foreseen something better for us, so that apart from us they should not be made perfect.” What then is the reward of such great hope, he says? What is the recompense? Great, and so great that it cannot even be shown in words: “For what eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and has not entered the heart of man, these are what God has prepared for those who love him.” … they have not yet received it, but are still waiting, though they died in such great affliction. And those men have had so long a time since they conquered, and have not yet received; and you, still in the contest, are vexed? Consider, you too, what it is and how great, for Abraham and the apostle Paul to sit waiting for when you will be made perfect, so that they may then be able to receive the reward. For the Savior has told them beforehand that he will not give it unless we too are present; just as an affectionate father might say to sons who are well esteemed and have finished their work that he will not give them anything to eat unless their brothers come. And are you vexed that you have not yet received the reward? What then will Abel do, who conquered before all and sits uncrowned? And Noah? And those who lived in those times, since they wait for you and those after you? Do you see that we have the advantage over them? And it is well that he said for this reason, “since God had foreseen something better for us.” … [better] for us [than] to be crowned first, since he appointed one time of crowns for all; and the one who conquered so many years ago receives the crown with you. Do you see the solicitude? And he did not say, “so that apart from us they should not be crowned,” but, “so that apart from us they should not be made perfect,” so that then they too appear perfect. They were ahead in the contests, but they are not ahead in the crowns. He did not wrong them, but honored us; for they too wait for their brothers. For if we are all one body, the pleasure is greater for this body when it is crowned in common and not part by part. For the righteous are admirable in this too, that they rejoice in their brothers' good things as in their own. So this is according to their wish too, to be crowned with their own members; for to be glorified together is a great pleasure. “Therefore we too, having so great a cloud of witnesses lying around us, …”

In many places Scripture draws comfort in evils from the things that happen [in nature], as when the prophet says, “He will deliver you from heat and harshness and rain”; and David, “The sun will not burn you by day, nor the moon by night.” This, then, he says here too: that the memory of those saints, as a cloud shades one scorched by a hotter ray, so revives and refreshes the soul worn out by evils. And he did not say, “hovering above us,” but “lying around us,” which is more than that, so as to show by this that, lying around us in a circle, it will naturally make us be in greater security. And by witnesses he means not only those in the New [Testament] but also those in the Old; for they too bore witness to the greatness of God, for example the three youths, Elijah and his companions, all the prophets. “[Let us lay aside every weight]”: … sleep, negligence, mean thoughts, all human things. “And the sin that easily besets us.” By “easily besetting” he means either that which easily surrounds us, or that which can easily be surrounded; rather the latter; for it is easy, if we wish, to get the better of sin. “Let us run with endurance,” he says, “the contest set before us.” He did not say, “Let us box,” nor “Let us wrestle,” nor “Let us make war,” but he set in the middle what was lightest of all, running. Nor did he say, “Let us add to the race,” but, “Let us persevere in this very thing, let us not grow faint.” “Let us run,” he says, “the contest set before us.” Then the chief point of the encouragement, which he sets both first and last: Christ. “Looking,” he says, “to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Which is what Christ himself constantly said to the disciples: “If [they called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much] more those of his household”; and again, “A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above his master.” “Looking,” he says; that is, so that we may learn to run, let us look to Christ. For just as in all arts and contests, looking at the teachers, we imprint the art on our mind, taking certain rules through sight, so here too, if we wish to run and to learn to run well, let us look to Christ, Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. What is this? That is, he himself put faith in us; he himself gave the beginning. Which Christ also said to the disciples: “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” And Paul says, “Then I shall know, even as I have been known.” And if he himself put the beginning in us, he himself will also add the end. “Who for the joy that was set before him,” he says, “endured [the cross]”; that is, it was possible for him to suffer nothing, if he had wished; “for he committed no sin, nor was deceit found in his mouth,” as he himself says in the Gospels: “The ruler of the world is coming, and he has nothing in me.” It was in his power, then, if he had wished, not to come to the cross: “For I have authority,” he says, “to lay down my life, and I have authority to take it again.” If, then, he who had no necessity of being crucified was crucified for our sake, how much more is it just for us to endure all things nobly? “Who for the joy set before him,” he says, “endured the cross, despising the shame.” He chose, he says, a shameful death. For grant that he died: why shamefully too? For no other reason than to teach us to think nothing of the glory that comes from men. That is why, though not subject to sin, he chose it, teaching us to brave it and to count it nothing. Why did he not say “pain,” but “shame”? Because he bore these things without pain. What then is the end? Hear, for he adds: “He has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Do you see the prize? Which Paul too says when he writes, “Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus Christ every knee should bend.” He says this with respect to the flesh. Now, even if there were no prize, the example would be enough to persuade us to choose everything; but as it is, prizes too are set before us, and not ordinary ones, but great and ineffable. So when we too suffer anything of the kind, let us think of Christ before the apostles. Why? Because his whole life was full of insults; for he was always being called mad, and a deceiver, and a sorcerer; and at times the Jews said, “This man is not from God”; at times, “No, but he leads the crowd astray”; and again, “That deceiver said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise.’” And [they ascribed his miracles] to sorcery, [saying that he cast out] demons [by Beelzebul]; and that he is mad and has a demon: “Do we not rightly say,” it says, “that you have a demon,” and are mad? And he heard these things from them while doing good, working miracles, showing forth the works of God. For if he had heard them while doing nothing, it would not have been so wonderful; but when, teaching what makes for truth, he was called a deceiver, and casting out demons, he was said to have a demon, and overturning all the things opposed [to God], he was called a sorcerer: what excess of wonder does this not contain? These were the things they constantly accused him of. And if you wish to learn the jeers and the mockery that they made against him, which above all bite our souls, hear first those about his family: “Is not this,” he says, “the carpenter's son, whose father and mother we know? Are not all his brothers with us?” And mocking him from his homeland, they said he was from Nazareth. And again: “[Search] and see that no prophet has arisen from Galilee”; and he bore so many slanders. And again they said, “Does not Scripture say that the Christ comes from Bethlehem, the village?” Do you want to see too the mockery they made at the very cross? They bowed down to him mocking, and struck him and beat him with their fists, and said, “Tell us who it is [that struck you]”; “[If you are the Son] of God, come down from the cross.” And further, the high priest's slave gave him a blow, and he says, “If I have spoken wrongly, bear witness about the wrong; but if rightly, why do you strike me?” And mocking him they put a cloak around him, and spat in his face, and they were always bringing temptations to him, testing him. Do you want to see the accusations too, the secret ones, the open ones, those from the disciples? For “Do you too wish to go away?” and “You have a demon” were said by those who had already believed. Tell me, did he not himself always flee, now to Galilee, now to Judea? Was not his trial great from his swaddling clothes? Did not his mother take him as a child and go down into Egypt? Because of all these things, then, he says, “Looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Let us, then, look to him, and to the things of his disciples, reading Paul's and hearing him say, “In much endurance, in afflictions, in necessities, in persecutions, in tumults, in fastings, in labors, in purity, in knowledge”; and again, “To the present hour we [hunger and thirst and are naked] and are buffeted and homeless, and we toil, working with our own hands; being reviled, we bless; being slandered, we entreat.” Can any of us say that he has suffered even the smallest part of these things? “As deceivers,” he says, “as dishonored, as having nothing”; and again, “Five times I received from the Jews forty lashes less one; three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned; a night and a day I have been in the deep … in distress, in hunger.” And that these things pleased God, hear him say, “Three times I entreated the Lord about this, and he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore,” he says, “I take pleasure in weaknesses, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in blows, in prisons, so that the power of Christ may dwell upon me.” And hear Christ himself saying, “In the world you will have tribulation.” “For consider,” he says, “him who endured such hostility from sinners against himself, so that you may not grow weary, fainting in your souls.” He fittingly added this; for if the sufferings of our neighbors rouse us, what eagerness will the Master's not give us? What will they not work in us? And see how, passing over the telling of everything, he showed all by the word “hostility,” and by adding “such”; for the blows on the cheek, the laughter, the insults, the reproaches, the mockeries, all these he indicated by “hostility”; and not those only, but also everything during his whole life of teaching. Let us, then, beloved, always consider these things, and turn them over in our minds night and day, knowing that we reap great good things from this, and much benefit. For the sufferings of Christ and those of the apostles are a great, truly a great comfort. For he knew that this way was better for virtue, since even he himself, who did not need it, went by it; so [much more] … when the cause is greater. For hear Christ himself saying, “If anyone does not take up his cross and follow after me, he is not worthy of me.” For by such teaching he all but says this: If you are a disciple, imitate the teacher; for this is the mark of a disciple. But if he came through affliction and you through ease, you no longer walk the same road that he walked, but another. How then do you follow, when you are not following? How are you a disciple, when you do not go after the teacher? Paul too says this: “We are weak, but you are strong; we are dishonored, but you are honored.” How is it reasonable, he says, that we should strive for opposite things, and that you are disciples and we teachers? Affliction, then, is a great thing, beloved; for it accomplishes the two greatest things: it both wipes out sins …

“What then,” someone says, “if it overturns and destroys [us]?” It is not affliction that does this, but our own sluggishness. “How?” someone says. If we are sober, if we call on God not to let us be tested beyond what we can bear, if we always cling to him, we shall stand nobly and hold our ground. As long as we have him as our helper, even if trials blow more violently than all the winds, they will be to us a straw and a leaf simply blown about. Hear Paul saying, “In all these things,” he says, “we are more than conquerors”; and again, “For I consider that the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us”; and again, “For the momentary lightness of affliction is working for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure.” Consider how great the dangers, the shipwrecks, the successive afflictions and all such things that he calls light; and emulate this man of adamant, who wore this body to no purpose, as it were. Are you in poverty? But not in such as Paul's, who was tested in hunger and thirst and nakedness; for he did not suffer this for one day, but endured it continually. How is this clear? Hear him saying, “To the present hour we both hunger and thirst and are naked.” Oh! having already such glory in the preaching, he endured so much, being by then in his twentieth year when he wrote these things. “For I know,” he says, “a man fourteen years ago, whether in the body or out of the body I do not know”; and again, “After three years,” he says, “I went up to Jerusalem.” And again hear him saying, “It would be better for me to die than that anyone should empty my boast.” And not only this, but writing again he said, “We have become like the refuse of the world.” What is harder than hunger? What than cold? What than the plots of brothers, whom he calls false brothers? Was he not called the pest of the world? Was he not called a deceiver? Let us take these things to mind, beloved, let us consider these things, let us remember these things, and we shall never faint, even if we are wronged, even if we are robbed, even if we suffer countless evils. May we be approved in the things in heaven, and all is bearable; may we fare well there, and there is no account of the things here. These things are a shadow and a dream; whatever they may be, when those are hoped for and expected, none of our hardships is anything, either in nature or in time. For what do you want us to compare with those terrors? What with the unquenchable fire, with the undying worm? What here will you be able to name equal to the gnashing of teeth, to the bonds, to the outer darkness, to the wrath, to the affliction, to the distress? But in time? And what are ten thousand years compared with infinite and endless ages? Are they not as a small drop to a boundless abyss? But compared with the good things? There the excess is greater: “Eye has not seen,” he says, “ear has not heard, it has not entered the heart of man.” And these again will be for infinite ages. For these, then, is it not good to be cut to pieces ten thousand times, to be killed, to be burned, to undergo countless deaths, to endure any terror whatever in word and deed? For if one had to live burning in fire, ought one not to endure everything to obtain those promised good things? But why do I say these things, talking idly to people who do not even choose to despise money, but cling to it as to immortal things, and if they give a little out of much, think they have done everything? This is not almsgiving; for almsgiving is that of the widow who emptied out her whole living. But if you are not able to put in as much as the widow, at least put in your whole surplus; keep what is sufficient, not what is superfluous. But no one puts in even the surplus; for as long as you have many servants and silk garments, all these are surplus. Nothing that we can live without is necessary or of need; these things are superfluous and simply attached from outside. Let us see, then, if you like, what we cannot live without. Even if we have only two servants, we can live; for since there are some who live without servants, what defense do we have if we are not content with two? We can have a house of brick with three rooms; and this is enough for us. For tell me, are there not some who have one room with children and wife? Let there be also, if you like, two servants. “And how is it not a disgrace,” someone says, “for a free woman to walk with two servants?” Away with it! It is not a disgrace for a free woman to walk with two servants, but it is a disgrace to go out with many. Perhaps you laugh hearing these things. Believe me, this is a disgrace: to go out with many. Like sheep dealers or slave traders, so you think it a great thing to go out with many servants. This is conceit and vainglory; that is philosophy and dignity. For the free woman ought not to be shown by the number of her attendants; for what virtue is it to have many slaves? This does not belong to the soul; and what does not belong to the soul does not show her free. When she is content with few, then she is truly free; but when she needs many, she is a slave and worse than slaves. Tell me, do not the angels go about the world alone, and need no one to follow them? Are they then worse than we who need them, those who do not need them? If, then, to need no attendant at all is angelic, who is near the angelic life, she who needs many or she who needs few? This is no disgrace; for disgrace is to do something wrong. Tell me, who turns the heads of those in the marketplace, the woman who brings many with her, or the one with few? And of the one who brings few, is not the one alone even less conspicuous? Do you see that that is the disgrace? Who turns the heads of those in the marketplace, the woman wearing fine clothes, or the one simply and unaffectedly dressed? Who again turns the heads of those in the marketplace, the one carried on mules with gold-spangled curtains, or the one who walks simply and as it happens, with modesty? Or do we not even notice this one, even if we see her, while as for that one, most people not only force themselves to see her but also ask who she is and where from? And I pass over how much envy is born from this. What then, tell me, is shameful: being seen or not being seen? When is the disgrace greater: when all look at her, or when no one does? When they inquire about her, or when they do not even care? Do you see that we do everything not from shame but from vainglory? But since it is impossible to draw you away from this, it is enough for me for the present that you learn that this is not a disgrace. Sin alone is a disgrace, which no one thinks a disgrace, but everything rather than this. Let garments be those of need, not superfluous ones; but so as not to shut you into great constraint, this I urge: that we need no gold-spangled garments, nor fine linens. And it is not I who say these things; for that the words are not mine, hear the blessed Paul saying and urging the women to adorn themselves “not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly clothing.” But tell us, Paul, what kind do you want? For perhaps they will say that only gold things are costly, but silk ones are not costly. Tell us … Let the garment be, he says, only for covering. [For this is why] God [gave them to us], so that we may cover our nakedness; and any garment of cheap value can do this. Perhaps you laugh, you who wear silk garments; for truly one ought to laugh. What did Paul command, and what do we do? But my word is not only to the women, but also to the men. For all the rest that we have is superfluous; only the poor possess no superfluities; and perhaps they too from necessity, since, if it were possible, not even they would abstain. But nevertheless, whether in pretext or in truth, meanwhile they do not have superfluities. Let us wear such garments, then, as fulfill the need. For what is the use of much gold? These things suit those on the stage; these are their costumes; they belong to harlots, who do everything to be seen. Let her adorn herself who is on the stage, who is in the orchestra; for she wishes to draw everyone to herself; but let her who professes godliness not adorn herself so, but she has another adornment. You too have a theater: adorn yourself for that theater, put on that adornment. What is your theater? Heaven, the people of the angels; I mean not only of the virgins, but also of women in the world; all who believe in Christ have that theater. Let us speak such things that we may delight those spectators; put on such things that you may gladden them. For tell me, if the harlot, laying aside the gold and the garments and the laughter and the witty and shameful words, came in dressed plainly, and uttered godly words, and spoke about chastity, and said nothing shameful, would not everyone get up? Would not this theater break up? Would they not throw her out, as not knowing how to suit herself to the people and saying things foreign to that satanic theater? So you too, if you put on her things and enter the theater of heaven, the spectators will throw you out. For there there is no need of these golden garments, but of others. Of what kind? Of the kind the prophet speaks of: “Clothed in golden fringes, embroidered”; not so as to make the body white and gleaming, but so as to adorn the soul; for it is she who contends and competes there. “All the glory of the king's daughter is within,” it says. Put these on; for you free yourself from countless other evils, and your husband from anxiety, and yourself from care. For so you will be respected by your husband, when you do not need much.

For every person is accustomed to grow proud toward those who need him; but when he sees that they have no need, he lowers his pride, so as to converse on equal terms. When the husband sees that you need him in nothing, that you despise his gifts, even if he is very proud, then he will respect you more than if you wore gold; and you will no longer be his slave. For we are forced to bow down to those whom we need; but if we withdraw ourselves, we shall no longer be subject to them, but he knows that we render him some obedience because of the fear of God, not because of what comes from him. For now, as though granting us great things, whatever honor he enjoys, he thinks he has not enjoyed it; but then, even if he obtains a little, he will think it a favor; he will not reproach you, he will not be forced to be greedy himself because of you. For what is more irrational than to have gold made for this purpose, to be worn in baths and in marketplaces? But in baths and in marketplaces perhaps it is nothing surprising; but to come forward dressed so in church, too, is very laughable. For why does she come in wearing gold, she who ought to come in to hear that women should adorn themselves “not with gold nor pearls nor costly clothing”? Why then do you come in, woman? Is it to fight with Paul, and show that, even if he says these things ten thousand times, you do not turn? Or wishing to convict us teachers of speaking these things in vain? For tell me, if a Greek and unbeliever, hearing this passage read, where the blessed Paul says these things, urging women to adorn themselves neither with gold nor pearls nor costly clothing, and having a believing wife, sees that she makes much of her adornment and puts on gold to go out to church, will he not say to himself, seeing her putting these on in the bedroom and arranging them well: “Why does my wife stay inside in the bedroom? Why does she delay? Why does she put on the gold? Where does she have to go? To church? Why? To hear, ‘Not with costly clothing’?” Will he not laugh? Will he not burst out laughing? Will he not think our religion mockery and deceit? Therefore I beg you, let us leave gold to processions, to the stage, to the shop windows of the workshops; but let the image of God not be adorned with these. Let the free woman be adorned with freedom; and freedom is to be free of conceit, free of display. And if you wish to obtain glory from men too, this is how you will obtain it. For we shall not so admire the wife of a rich man wearing silk too (for this is common to all), as when she happens to wear a simple and plain garment, made only of wool; this all will admire, this they will applaud. For in that adornment of gold and costly garments she has many sharing it with her; even if she outshines this one, she is defeated by another; even if she surpasses all, she is conquered by the empress herself; but here she conquers all, even the emperor's wife herself; for she alone, in great wealth, chose what belongs to the poor. So if we love glory, here the glory is greater. I do not speak to widows only, and the rich ones; for there the necessity of widowhood seems to do this; but also to those who are married. “But I do not please my husband,” someone says. It is not your husband you wish to please, but the crowd of poor women; or rather not to please them, but to waste them away and pain them, and make their poverty greater. How many utter blasphemies because of you? “Let there be no poverty,” they say; “God hates the poor; God does not love those in poverty.” For that it is not your husband you wish to please, and that it is not for this reason that you adorn yourself, you yourself make plain to all from what you do. For when you cross the threshold of your chamber, at once you lay everything aside, the garments and the gold and the pearls; and at home above all you do not wear them. But if you wish at all to please your husband, … by modesty. Believe me, woman, even if your husband is ten thousand times inclined to pleasure and incontinent, these things [win] him more: … the inexpensive, the plain. For the licentious man you will not restrain, even if you devise countless such things; and those who have had such husbands know it; for however you adorn yourself, he, being licentious, [will go] to another. And the chaste and modest man you do not win by these things, but by their opposites; and in these you even grieve him, putting on yourself a reputation for love of finery. For even if the husband, out of respect and as a chaste man, does not say this, yet inwardly he will condemn you; and the envies and the jealousies, stirring up envy against yourself …

Perhaps you hear what is said with annoyance, and are indignant, saying, “He provokes the husbands still more against their wives.” I do not say these things to provoke the husbands, but wishing these things to be done by you willingly, for your sake, not for theirs; not to free them from envy, but to free you from worldly fancy. Do you want to appear beautiful? I too want this; but with the beauty that God seeks, the beauty the King desires. Which lover do you want to have, God or men? If you are beautiful with that beauty, God will desire your beauty; but if you have this without that, he will loathe you, and your lovers will be foul men; for no one who loves a married woman is good. Reckon this in the case of outward adornment too. For that adornment, I mean that of the soul, draws God; but this, again, foul men. Do you see that I care for you, that I am concerned for you, so that you may be beautiful, truly beautiful, truly glorious, so that instead of foul men you may have God, the Master of all, as your lover? And she who has him as her lover, whom will she be like? She dances with the angels. For if a woman loved by a king is called blessed above all, what will she be worth who is loved by God with great love? Even if you set the world against it, nothing is worthy of that beauty. Let us practice this beauty, then, let us be adorned with this adornment, so that we may go to heaven, to the spiritual bridal chambers, to the pure marriage chamber. For this beauty is caught by all, and even when it lasts well, and neither disease nor care troubles it, which is impossible, it does not last twenty years; but that beauty always blooms, always is in its prime; there one need not fear change; old age does not come and bring wrinkles, disease does not [waste it], but it is above all these things. This one departs before it has appeared, and when it appears it does not have many admirers; for the modest do not admire it, and those who admire it admire with licentiousness. Let us not, then, practice this, but that; let us hold to that, so that we may depart with bright lamps into the bridal chamber. For this is promised not to virgins only, but to souls that are virgin; since, if this were simply for virgins, the five would not have been shut out. It belongs, then, to all who are virgins in soul, all who are freed from worldly thoughts; for these thoughts corrupt souls. If, then, [we remain] pure, … “For I betrothed you,” he says, “to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ.” He did not say this to the virgins, but to the fullness of the whole church. For the soul that is uncorrupted is a virgin, even if it has a husband; it is a virgin with true and wonderful virginity; for that of the body is a consequence and shadow of it, but this is the true virginity. Let us practice this, and so we shall be able to see the bridegroom with a bright face, to enter with bright lamps, if the oil does not fail us, if, melting down our gold, we make such oil as makes the lamps bright; and that oil is love for humankind. If we share our goods with others, if we make them oil, then it will stand by us, and we shall not say at that time, “Give us oil, because our lamps are going out”; nor shall we need others, nor, having gone to those who sell, be shut out, nor hear, as we knock at the doors, that fearful and dreadful voice, “I do not know you”; but he will recognize us, and we shall enter with the bridegroom, and having entered the spiritual bridal chamber, we shall enjoy countless good things. For if here the bridal chamber is so bright, [and draws all who] look at it, how much more there? Heaven is the chamber, and the bridal chamber is better than heaven; there we shall enter. And if the bridal chamber is so beautiful, what then will the bridegroom be? And why do I say, let us lay aside our gold and give it to the needy? Even if we had to sell ourselves, even if we had to become slaves instead of free, so as to be able to be with that bridegroom, to enjoy that beauty, only to look on that face, ought we not to accept everything eagerly? And to see an earthly king only, we often throw away even what is in our hands, even necessary things; but for the King and Bridegroom in heaven, who is both, so as not only to be counted worthy to see him, but also to go before him with lamps, and to be near him, and to be with him continually, what ought we not to do? What not to practice? What not to endure? Therefore I beg you, let us conceive some longing for those good things, let us long for that bridegroom, let us be virgins with the true virginity; for it is the virginity of the soul that the Master seeks. With this let us enter heaven, having no spot or wrinkle or anything of the kind, so that we may also obtain the good things promised to us; may we all share in them, by the grace and love for humankind [of our Lord Jesus Christ] …

“You have not yet resisted to the point of blood, [striving against sin; and you have forgotten the exhortation] of [the] calling, which addresses you as sons: ‘[My son], do not make light of the Lord's discipline, nor faint when you are reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and scourges every son whom he receives.’ If you endure discipline, God is dealing with you as with sons; for what son is there whom a father does not discipline?” There are [two] kinds [of encouragement] that seem to be opposed to each other, but contribute great strength to one another; and he has set both here. The one is when we say that some have suffered much; for the soul is refreshed when it has many witnesses of its own sufferings; which he set down above, saying, “Remember the former days, in which [after you were enlightened, you endured a great contest of suffer]ings.” The other is when we say, “You have suffered nothing great”; … and we all become more eager to suffer. And the one refreshes the worn-out soul and makes it breathe again; the other turns back the soul that has grown careless and lax, and brings down its pride. So that pride may not, then, be born in them from that testimony, see what he does: “You have not yet,” he says, “resisted to the point of blood, striving against sin.” And he did not at once add what follows, but having shown them all those who stood firm to the point of blood, and then having brought in the boast, Christ's sufferings, then he easily ran down [to this]. This is what he says writing to the Corinthians too: “No trial has overtaken you except what is human,” that is, small. For this is enough to rouse and set upright a soul, when it considers that it has not gone up to the whole, and persuades itself from what has gone before. What he means is this: you have not yet undergone death; your loss has gone as far as money, as far as reputation, as far as being driven out; but Christ shed his blood for you, while you have not shed it even for yourselves; he contended for the truth to the point of death, fighting for you; but you have not yet [gone into] dangers … “[and you have forgotten] the exhortation,” that is, you have let your hands drop, you have grown faint. “You have not yet,” he says, “resisted to the point of blood, striving against sin.” Here he shows both that sin is blowing hard and that it is armed; for “resisted” is said of those who stand in battle. “[And you have forgotten the exhortation] which,” he says, “addresses you as sons: ‘My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, nor faint when you are reproved by him.’” He made the encouragement from the facts; more than enough, he adds that from words too, from this testimony: “Do not faint,” he says, “when you are reproved by him.” So these things are God's. And this too is no small encouragement, when we learn that it is God's work that such things can be done, by his permission; as Paul also says, “Three times I entreated the Lord about this, and he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” So it is he who permits. “For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and scourges every son whom he receives.” You cannot say, he says, that there is any righteous man without affliction; for even if it seems so, we do not know his other afflictions; so every righteous man must come through affliction. For it is Christ's sentence that the broad and spacious way leads to destruction, but the narrow and hard pressed one to life. If, then, it is possible to come to life by that way and not by another, then all who have gone to life have entered by the narrow way. “If you endure discipline,” he says, “God is dealing with you as with sons; for what son is there whom a father does not discipline?” If he disciplines, it is for correction, not for punishment, nor for vengeance, nor for suffering ill. See: from the very things by which they thought they had been abandoned, from these he tells them to believe that they are not abandoned. As if he said: since you have suffered so many evils, do you think that God has let you go and hates you? If you had not suffered, then you ought to suspect this; for if he scourges every son whom he receives, the one who is not scourged is perhaps not a son. “What then,” someone says, “do the wicked not suffer ill?” They do; how could they not? But he did not say, “Everyone who is scourged is a son,” but, “Every son is scourged.” But you could not say [the converse]; for there are many who are scourged who are also wicked, such as murderers, robbers, sorcerers, grave robbers. But they pay the penalty for their own wickedness, and they are not scourged as sons, but punished as evil; but you as sons. Do you see how he moves arguments from every side: from facts in Scripture, from words, from notions of their own, from examples in life? Then again from common custom too: “But if you are without discipline, of which all have become partakers, then you are bastards and not sons.”

Do you see that, as I said before, it is not possible to be a son without being disciplined? For just as in households fathers neglect their bastards, even if they learn nothing, even if they do not become distinguished, but fear for their true sons lest they become careless, so too in the present case. If, then, not to be disciplined belongs to bastards, we must rejoice in discipline, if it is the mark of true sonship. “God is dealing with you as with sons”; he says this for this very reason. “Furthermore, we had the fathers of our flesh as disciplinarians, and we respected them; shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live?” Again the exhortation is from their own sufferings, from what they themselves suffered. For just as there he says, “Remember the former days,” so here too: “God,” he says, “is dealing with you as with sons,” and you could not say, “We cannot bear it,” and [he treats you] as beloved sons. And if they respect their fleshly fathers, how will you not respect the heavenly Father? And yet the difference is not only from this and from the persons, but also from the very cause and from the thing; for he and they do not discipline for the same reasons. That is why he adds, “For they disciplined us for a few days as seemed good to them”; that is, often fulfilling their own pleasure, and not everywhere looking to what was profitable. But here this cannot be said; for he does not do this for any interest of his own, but for you and for your benefit alone; they, so that you might be useful to them too, and often even without reason; but here there is nothing of the kind. Do you see that this too brings encouragement? For we are drawn most of all to those whom we see commanding or advising not for any interest of their own, but whose whole zeal is for our good. For this is sincere love, and truly love, when, being of no use to the one who loves [us, we are loved]; … not to receive, but to give; he disciplines, does everything, is eager in everything, so that we may become receptive of his good things. “For they,” he says, “disciplined us for a few days as seemed good to them; but he for our profit, that we may share in his holiness.” What is “his holiness”? That is, his purity, so that we may become worthy of him as far as we are able. He is eager that you should receive, and does everything to give to you; but you are not eager to receive. “I said to the Lord,” it says, “You are my Lord, because you have no need of my goods.” “Furthermore,” he says, “we had the fathers of our flesh to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live?” “The Father of spirits”: he means either of spiritual gifts, or of prayers, or of the bodiless powers. If we die in this way, then we shall live. And he spoke well: “For they disciplined us for a few days as seemed good to them”; for what seems good is not everywhere profitable; “but he for our profit.” So discipline is profitable; so discipline is a sharing in holiness. Very much so; for when it casts out sloth, when it casts out evil desire, when it casts out love of worldly things, when it gathers the soul together, when it makes one condemn all things here (for such is affliction), does it not become holy? Does it not draw the grace of the Spirit? Let us, then, always consider the righteous, and see from where they all shone, and before all Abel and Noah: was it not from affliction? For it is not possible for one who was alone in so great a multitude of evils not to be afflicted. For Noah, being alone perfect in his generation, pleased God. Consider: if now, when we have countless people whose virtue we may emulate, and fathers and teachers, we are so afflicted, what was it likely that he suffered, alone among so many? Or shall I speak of that strange and extraordinary rain? Or shall I speak of Abraham, and what it befell him to suffer: the successive journeys, the carrying off of his wife, the dangers, the wars, the trials? Or of Jacob, how many terrible things he suffered, driven out on every side, toiling in vain and laboring for others? For it is not necessary to list all his trials, but it is reasonable to bring forward his testimony, which he himself gave when he said, speaking to Pharaoh, “Few and evil are my days, and they have not attained to the days of my fathers.” Or shall I speak of Joseph? Of Moses? Of Joshua? Of David? Of Samuel? Of Elijah? Of Daniel? Of all the prophets? You will find that all of these became illustrious through afflictions. Tell me, then: do you want to become illustrious from ease and luxury? But you could not. Or shall I speak of the apostles? But these too surpassed all in sufferings. Why do I say these things? Christ too says this: “In the world you will have tribulation”; and again, “You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.” And that narrow and hard pressed is the way that leads to life. The Lord of the way said that it is narrow and hard pressed; and you seek the broad one? And how is this not absurd? That is why you will not attain life, walking another way, but destruction; for you have chosen the one that leads there. Do you want me to speak of and bring forward those who live in luxury? Let us go up from the last to the first. The rich man burning in the furnace; the Jews who lived for the belly, “whose god is the belly”; those in the desert always seeking ease: why did they perish? Like those in Noah's time too: was it not because they chose this soft and dissolute life? And those in Sodom because of gluttony: “For in fullness of bread,” it says, “they lived wantonly.” This was said about those in Sodom. And if fullness of bread worked so great an evil, what shall we say about the other delicacies? Was not Esau in ease? And what of those who saw the daughters of [men, the sons] of God, and were driven down the precipice? And what of those maddened with lust for males? And all the kings of the nations, of the Babylonians, of the Egyptians, did they not end their life wretchedly? Are they not in punishment? And are things not the same now, tell me? Hear Christ saying, “Those who wear soft clothing are in kings' houses”; but those who do not wear such things are in heaven. For soft clothing loosens even an austere soul, and breaks it and dissipates it; and even if it gets a rough and hard body, through such pampering it quickly makes it soft and weak. For from where else, do you think, tell me, are women so weak? From nature alone? Not at all, but also from their way of life and upbringing; for the sheltered life, the idleness, the baths, the perfumes, the multitude of spices, the softness of the bedding make them such. And so that you may learn, attend to what I say. Take a plant from the trees that stand in the desert and are beaten by the winds, tell me, and set it in a moist and shady place [in a garden]; and you will find it much inferior to the one from which you took it at first. And that this is true: the women raised in the country are stronger than the men of the city, and they could throw many such men in wrestling. And when the body has become softer, the soul too must share in the damage; for in most things its activities are disposed along with the body's condition. For in sicknesses we are different because of the weakness, and when healthy, different again. For just as with a string, when the notes are soft and slack and [the strings] are not well stretched, the excellence of the art is cut short, being forced to serve the slackness of the strings, so too with the body: the soul receives much harm from it, many constraints. For when it needs much care, the soul endures a bitter slavery. Therefore, I beg you, let us make it strong and not nurse it as an invalid. My word is not only to men but also to women. For why, woman, do you continually loosen it with luxury and make it faded? Why do you spoil its strength with fat? Fat is flabbiness to it, not strength. But if you leave these things and lead yourself differently, then even bodily beauty advances as you wish, when strength and good condition are present; but if you besiege it with countless diseases, there will be neither bloom of color nor any good condition; for you will always be in dejection.

And you know that just as a fine house, when the air smiles, appears brilliant, so too the cheerfulness of the soul, coming upon a beautiful face, makes it better; but if it is in dejection and pains, it becomes uglier. And diseases and pains cause dejection, and the body's becoming softer from much luxury causes diseases. So for this reason too you will flee luxury, if you obey me. “But luxury has pleasure,” someone says. But not as much as it has discomforts. Besides, the pleasure reaches as far as the throat, as far as the tongue; for when the table has been removed or the food swallowed, you will be like one who did not partake, or rather much worse, bearing from it heaviness and distension and headache and sleep like death, and often sleeplessness from surfeit, and wind in the belly, so that one must curse the excess. Let us not, then, fatten the body, but let us listen to Paul saying, “Make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” Just as if someone took food and threw it into a sewer, so is the one who throws it into the belly; or rather not so, but much worse. For there he makes a sewer without evils of his own; but here it also breeds countless diseases. For what nourishes is sufficiency, what can also be digested; but what exceeds the need not only does not nourish, but even spoils that. But no one sees these things, being deceived by untimely pleasure and by the prejudice of habit. Do you want to nourish the body? Take away the excess, give what is sufficient, and as much as can be digested; do not weigh it down, so that you may not sink it. Sufficiency is both nourishment and pleasure; for nothing gives pleasure so much as food well digested; nothing gives health so much, nothing sharpness of the senses, nothing so drives away disease. So sufficiency is nourishment and pleasure and health, but excess is ruin and disgust and disease. For what famine does, surfeit does too, or rather worse; for famine carries a man off and frees him in a few days, but surfeit, gnawing and rotting the body, hands it over to a long disease, and then to a most painful death. But we think famine a thing to pray against, and run to surfeit, which is worse than it. From where comes this disease? From where this madness? I do not say, waste yourselves away, but eat so much as has the true pleasure, and can nourish the body, and make it well ordered and well fitted for you for the activities of the soul, … well and fitted together. But when it is waterlogged with food, [the flood], loosening the very bolts, as one might say, and the joints [which hold it together] … for the flood, coming upon it, dissolves and dissipates the whole. “Make no provision for the flesh,” he says, “to gratify its desires.” And he spoke well: “to gratify its desires”; for luxury is fuel for absurd desires; even if the one living in luxury is the most philosophical of all, he must suffer something from the wine, from the food; he must be dissipated; he must bear a greater flame. From this come acts of sexual immorality, from this acts of adultery; for a hungry belly cannot give birth to lust, nor even one using sufficiency; but the one that gives birth to absurd desires is the one that wantons in luxury. And just as soil that is very wet breeds worms, and dung that is soaked and has much moisture, while soil freed from that moisture bears much fruit, when it does not have excess (for if it is not cultivated it puts forth grass, but if it is cultivated, fruit), so it is with us too. Let us not, then, make the flesh useless or unprofitable or harmful, but let us plant in it useful fruits and fruit-bearing plants, and take care not to loosen them with luxury; for these too all put forth worms instead of fruits. So too the innate desire, if you soak it beyond measure, breeds absurd pleasures, and very absurd ones. Let us take away this ruin in every way, so that we may be able to obtain the promised good things, in Christ Jesus our Lord, and so on.

“For the moment all discipline seems to be not of joy but of grief; but later it yields the [peaceful] fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Therefore [lift up] the drooping hands and the paralyzed knees, and make straight paths for your feet.” Those who drink bitter medicines first endure some unpleasantness, and then feel the benefit. For such is virtue, and such is vice: there pleasure comes first, then dejection; here dejection first, and then pleasure. But they are not at all equal; for it is not the same to be grieved first and pleased later, and to be pleased first and grieved later. How? For in the one case the expectation of the coming dejection makes the present pleasure smaller; but in the other the expectation of the coming pleasure cuts down the severity of the present dejection; so that it happens that in the one case one is never pleased, in the other never grieved. And the difference lies not only in this, but in another way too. How? Because the times are not equal either, but [the one] is much greater and longer. And here there is something more in spiritual things. From this, then, Paul undertakes to bring in his encouragement, and again takes up the common judgment, which no one can oppose nor fight against the common vote. For when someone says what is agreed by all, all assent … this with reason; for such is discipline: it has such a beginning. That is why he added thus: “For the moment all discipline seems to be not of joy but of grief.” He said well, “seems”; for discipline is not of grief, but only seems to be; and not one kind is and another is not, but all: “For all discipline,” he says, “seems to be not of joy but of grief,” that is, both the human and the spiritual. Do you see him contending from common notions? “It seems,” he says, “to be of grief”; so it is not. For what grief produces joy? None; just as no pleasure [produces grief]. “But later it yields the peaceful fruits of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” He did not say “fruit” but “fruits,” showing the great abundance. “To those who have been trained by it,” he says. What is “to those trained by it”? To those who have held out long and persevered. Do you see how he uses an auspicious name too? So discipline is a training, making the athlete strong and unconquerable in contests and irresistible in wars. If, then, all discipline is such, this too will be such. So one must expect good things, and an end that is sweet and peaceful. And do not wonder if, though harsh, it has sweet fruits; since in trees too the bark is tasteless and rough, but the fruits sweet. But he took it from the common notion. If, then, one must expect such things, why do you grieve? Why, having endured the painful things, do you grow faint about the good things? The unpleasant things you had to endure, you have endured; do not, then, grow faint about the recompense. “Therefore lift up the drooping hands and the paralyzed knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be turned aside, but rather be healed.” He speaks as to runners and boxers and soldiers. Do you see how he arms them, how he raises them up? Here he says this about their thoughts. “Walk straight,” he says, that is, not doubting. For if discipline is from love, if it begins from care, if it ends in a good end (for he proves this by facts and by words and by all things), why do you grow faint? For such are those who have despaired, who are not strengthened by the hope of the things to come. “Walk straight,” he says, so that the lameness may not be increased, but changed back to its former state; for one who runs while lame aggravates the evil. Do you see that it is in our power to be wholly healed? “Pursue peace with all, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord.” What he said above too, “[Not abandoning our own assembling together]”, he hints at here too. For nothing [makes one easy prey] so much as being torn apart. And see how: break up a phalanx in war, and the enemy will not even need toil, but will take them bound, finding them on their own and so weaker. “Pursue peace with all,” he says. So even with those who do evil. This he says elsewhere too: “If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all people.” For your part, he says, keep the peace, in no way harming godliness, but in what you suffer evil, bear it nobly; for forbearance is a great weapon in trials. So too Christ made the disciples strong, saying, “See, I send you as sheep in the midst of wolves; be therefore wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” What are you saying? We are among wolves, and you bid us be like sheep and like doves? Yes, he says; for nothing so shames the one who does evil as your bearing nobly what is brought on you, and not avenging yourselves by word or deed. This both makes us [wiser] and procures a greater reward, and benefits them. Has so-and-so insulted you? Bless him. See how much you gain from this: [you have quenched the evil], you have procured a reward for yourself, [you have shamed him], you have suffered nothing terrible. “Pursue peace with all, and holiness.” What does he mean by holiness? Chastity and orderliness in marriage. If someone is without marriage, he says, let him remain chaste, [or] marry; if in marriage, let him not commit sexual immorality, but let him have his own wife; for this too is holiness. How? Marriage is not holiness, but marriage guards the holiness that comes from faith, not letting one turn to a harlot. For marriage is honorable, not holy; marriage is pure, but it does not confer holiness, except in preventing the holiness given by faith from being defiled. “Without which,” he says, “no one will see the Lord.” Which he also says in the letter to the Corinthians: “Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor adulterers, nor idolaters, nor the effeminate, [nor thieves, nor the greedy], nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor robbers will inherit the kingdom of God.” For how will one who has become the body of a harlot be able to be the body of Christ? “See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God, that no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble, and by it many be defiled; that no one be sexually immoral or profane.” Do you see how everywhere he entrusts to each one the common salvation? “Exhorting one another,” he says, “every day, as long as it is called today.” Do not, then, throw everything on the teachers, nor everything on the leaders; you too, he says, can build one another up. Which he also said writing to the Thessalonians: “Build one another up, as indeed you are doing”; and again, “Comfort one another with these words.” This we too urge on you now. For you will accomplish more than we, if you wish, toward one another; for you spend more time with one another, and know one another's affairs better than we do, and you are not ignorant of one another's failings, and you have more freedom of speech and love and familiarity; and these are no small things for teaching, but great entrances and opportunities; and you will be able to rebuke and exhort better than we. And not only this, but because I am one, but you are many, and all of you, as many as you are, can be teachers. Therefore, I beg you, do not neglect this gift. Each has a wife, has a friend, has a servant, [has a neighbor] … For how is it not absurd to have common meals and drinking parties for the sake of food, and to have a fixed day for coming together, and to have what each lacks on his own supplied through partnership, for instance if one must go to a funeral, or to luncheons, or help a neighbor in something, but not to do this for teaching virtue? Yes, I beg you, let no one be negligent; for he receives a great reward from God. And so that you may learn: the one entrusted with five talents is the teacher, and the one with one talent the disciple. If the disciple says, “I am a disciple; I am in no danger,” and hides the word that he received from God, this common and plain one, and does not exhort, does not speak freely, does not reprove, does not admonish, if he can, but hides it in the earth (for a heart that hides God's gift is truly earth and darkness): if, then, he hides it either from sloth or from wickedness, it will not help him to say, “I had one talent.” You had one talent: you ought to have brought one more and doubled the talent; if you had brought one, you would not have been accused. For neither did he say to the one who brought the two, “Why did you not bring five?” but counted him worthy of the same things as the one who brought the five. Why? Because he worked with as much as he had; and he did not, because he received less than the one entrusted with five, become careless, nor use the smallness as an excuse for idleness. Nor ought you to have looked to the one with two; or rather, you ought to have looked to him, and just as he, having two, imitated the one with five, so you too ought to have emulated the one who had two. For if punishment lies in store for one who has money and does not share it, how will there not be the greatest punishment for one who can exhort in any way whatever and does not do it? There a body is fed, here a soul; there you prevent temporary death, here [eternal death]. “But I have no eloquence,” someone says. But there is no need of eloquence or fluent speech. If you see your friend committing sexual immorality, say to him, “It is a wicked thing that you pursue; are you not ashamed? Do you not blush? This is evil.” “Does he himself not know,” someone says, “that it is evil?” Yes, he knows, but he is dragged by desire. The sick too know that drinking cold water is bad, but nevertheless they need those who will prevent them; for one who is in the grip of passion will not quickly be able to suffice for himself in the disease. So you who are healthy are needed for his cure; and if he is not persuaded by the word, watch for him as he is going out and hold him back; perhaps he will be ashamed. “And what is the use,” someone says, “when he does this because of me, and because he was held back by me?” Do not be too precise; meanwhile, by any means, draw him away from the wicked practice; let him be accustomed not to go to that pit; whether he is prevented because of you or because of anything whatever, there will be gain from this. For when you have accustomed him not to go, then you will be able, when he has breathed a little, to take him and teach him that he must not do this for God's sake, and not for a man's. Do not wish to set everything right at once, since you will not be able, but gently and little by little. If you see him going to drinking, and to drinking parties full of drunkenness, do the same there too; and again urge him, if he sees you have any failing, to help and correct you. For so he will bear reproof on his own account too, when he sees that you too need reproofs, and that you help not as one who has set everything right, nor as a teacher, but as a friend and brother. Say to him: “I have helped you by reminding you of what is profitable; you too, whatever failing you see I have, rein me in, …; if you see me angry, if greedy, hold me back, bind me with exhortation.” This is friendship; thus “a brother helped by a brother becomes like a strong city”; for it is not eating and drinking that makes friendship; robbers and murderers have such friendship too; but if we are friends, if we truly care for one another, let us help one another in these things; these lead us to a profitable friendship, these prevent us from going away to Gehenna. Let the one who is reproved, then, not be indignant; for we are human and have failings; and let the one who reproves not do it as one who mocks or tramples, nor parading it, but privately, with gentleness; for the one who reproves needs more gentleness, so as to persuade [the other] to bear the cutting. Do you not see physicians, [how gently] they apply the treatment? Much more must those who reprove do this; for reproof is more violent even than fire and iron, and makes one leap away; that is why physicians too take great pains so that the cutting may be borne mildly, and apply it as gently as possible, giving way a little and then allowing [the patient] to breathe. So must those who reprove do too, so that those reproved may not leap away. And even if we must be insulted, even if we must be struck, let us not refuse. For those who are cut too cry out countless things against those who cut them; but these look to none of this, but only to the health of the sick. So here too we must do everything for the reproof to become useful, and bear everything, looking to the reward laid up. “Bear one another's burdens,” he says, “and so fulfill the law of Christ.” So, then, both reproving and bearing with one another, we shall be able to complete the building of Christ; and so you will make our labor light for us, helping us in all things and reaching out a hand and becoming sharers and partners both in one another's salvation and each in his own. Let us persevere, then, both bearing one another's burdens and reproving, so that we may obtain the good things promised to us, in Christ Jesus our Lord.

“Pursue peace with all, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord.” Many things mark Christianity, but more than all and better than all, love for one another and peace. That is why Christ says, “My peace I give to you”; and again, “By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” That is why Paul too now says, “Pursue peace with all, and holiness”, [that is, puri]ty, “without which no one will see the Lord.” “See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God.” As when people travel a long road in a large company, “See,” he says, “that no one has been left behind; for I do not seek this only, that you arrive, but also that you look after the others.” “That no one fails,” he says, “to obtain the grace of God.” He calls the grace of God the good things to come, the faith of the gospel, the best way of life; for all are of the grace of God. Do not tell me, then, that it is one who is perishing; Christ died even for one. [For one] Christ died, and you do not care? … [as is done] in the case of the sick, [examining] everything and [inquiring closely]. “That no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble.” This lies in Deuteronomy; and he took it by a metaphor from plants. “That no root,” he says, “of bitterness”; which he also says writing elsewhere, “A little leaven leavens the whole lump.” I wish this, he says, not only for that one's sake, but also because of the harm that comes from him. That is, even if there is such a root, do not let any shoot come up, but let it be cut off, so that it may not bear its own fruits, so that it may not defile and pollute the others too. “For let no root of bitterness,” he says, “spring up and cause trouble, and by it many be defiled.” And he rightly called sin bitter; for nothing is truly more bitter than sin; and those know it who, after doing it, waste away under conscience, who endure much bitterness; for being most bitter, it twists the very reasoning faculty. Such is the nature of what is bitter: it is unprofitable. And he said well, “a root of bitterness.” He did not say “bitter,” but “of bitterness”; for a bitter root can bear sweet fruits, but a root and source and occasion of bitterness can never bear sweet fruit; for everything is bitter, has nothing pleasant: everything bitter, everything unpleasant, everything full of hatred and abomination. “And by it,” he says, “many be defiled.” That is, so that this may not happen, cut off the licentious. “That no one be sexually immoral or profane like Esau, who for one meal sold his birthright.” And where was Esau sexually immoral? He does not say here that Esau was sexually immoral, but it is set in contrast with “pursue holiness”; and “profane” is said with reference to him. Let no one, then, be like Esau, [profane], bartering away spiritual things. “Who for one meal sold his birthright”: that is, who through his own indolence sold this honor from God, and for a little pleasure lost the greatest honor and glory. This is apt for them; this is the mark of the abominable, of the unclean. So not only the fornicator is unclean, but also the glutton, who is a slave of the belly. For he too is a slave of another pleasure; he is forced to be greedy, forced to rob, to behave shamefully in countless ways, being a slave of that passion, and often he blasphemes. This man thought the birthright worth nothing. That is why, providing for his temporary ease, he went as far as the birthright. So the birthright is ours from now on, not the Jews'. At the same time this also bears on what they suffered; for by this he all but hints that the first has become last and the second first: the one first through endurance, the other last through indolence. “For you know,” he says, “that afterward, when he wished to inherit the blessing, he was rejected; for he found no place for repentance, though …”

What is this? Does he cast out repentance? Not at all. “But how,” someone says, “did he find no place for repentance? For if he condemned himself, if he wailed aloud, why did he not find a place for repentance?” Because the thing was not repentance. For just as Cain's grief was not repentance, and the murder showed it, so here too the words were not repentance, and the murder afterward showed it; for he too killed Jacob in intention: “For the days of mourning for my father are drawing near,” he says, “and I will kill Jacob my brother.” That is why his tears could not give him repentance. And he did not simply say “of repentance,” but, “though he sought it with tears, he found no place for repentance.” Why? Because he did not repent as he should have; for this is repentance; he did not repent as was needful. Since otherwise, how did he say these things? How did he exhort again those who had become sluggish? How those who had become lame? How those paralyzed, how those drooping? For this is the beginning of a fall. It seems to me that he is hinting at some fornicators among them, but does not wish to convict them for the present; rather he pretends ignorance, so that they may correct themselves. For one must first feign ignorance, and afterward, when they persist, then bring the reproof too, … [as Moses did] in the case of Zimri and the Midianite woman. “For he found no place,” he says, “for repentance.” He did not find repentance, either because he sinned more greatly than repentance [can cover], or because he did not show worthy repentance. So there are sins greater than repentance. What he means is this: let us not fall an incurable fall. As long as the thing is lameness, it is easy to be made straight; but if we turn aside, what will there be from then on? For to those who have not yet fallen he speaks thus, tightening them with fear, and says that it is not possible for one who has fallen to obtain comfort; but to those who have fallen, so that they may not fall into despair, he urges the opposite, saying thus: “My little children, for whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you”; and again, [“You who would be justified by the law have fallen away from grace”]: see, he testifies that they have fallen. For the one who is standing, hearing that one who falls cannot obtain pardon, will be more vigorous and more secure in his standing; but if you use the same vehemence with the one who has fallen, he will never rise again; for with what hope will he show the change? And he says not only, “he wept,” but also, “he sought”; so in saying, “he found no place for repentance,” he does not cast out repentance, but rather secures them by this against falling. Let those, then, who disbelieve Gehenna consider these things [when they wish] to sin. Why did Esau not obtain pardon? Because he did not repent as he should have.

Do you want to see exact repentance? Hear Peter's repentance after the denial. For the evangelist, recounting his story to us, says, “And going outside, he wept bitterly.” That is why such a sin was forgiven him, because he repented as he should. And yet the victim had not yet been offered, the sacrifice had not yet been made, sin had not yet been taken away; it still ruled and tyrannized. And so that you may learn that the denial was not so much from carelessness as from God's abandoning him, teaching him to know human measures, and not to contradict what the teacher said, nor to think himself greater than the others, but to know that nothing can be done without God, and that “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain”: hear how, securing him and persuading him to be moderate, Christ said to him alone, “Simon, Simon, see, Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.” For since it was likely that he would think highly of himself, being conscious that he loved Christ more than all, that is why he is allowed to fall, to deny his teacher; that is why he also weeps bitterly, and does the other things that follow the weeping likewise. For what did he not do? He surrounded himself with countless dangers after this, showing his courage and the boldness of his soul through everything. Judas too repented, but badly; for he hanged himself. Esau too repented, as I said; or rather he did not even repent; for the tears were not of repentance, but rather of spite and anger; and what follows shows it. The blessed David repented, saying thus: “Every night I will wash my bed, with my tears I will drench my couch”; and the sin committed long before, after so many years, after so many generations, [he bewailed] as if newly [done] … [one] must not [be indignant] or savage, but be crushed as one condemned, as one without boldness, as one sentenced, as one who must be saved by mercy alone, as one shown ungrateful toward his benefactor, as thankless, as worthless, as deserving countless punishments. If he reckons these things, he will not be angry, he will not be indignant, … night and day. The one who repents must never consign the sin to forgetfulness, but must call on God not to remember it, while he himself never forgets it; if we remember it, God will forget it. Let us exact the penalty from ourselves, let us accuse ourselves; so we shall propitiate the judge. For sin confessed becomes less, but not confessed, worse. For if sin takes on shamelessness and ingratitude, it will never stop. For how will such a one be able to guard against falling into the same things again, who does not know that he sinned before? Let us not, then, deny, I beg you, nor be shameless, so that we may not pay the penalty even against our will. Cain heard from God, “Where is Abel your brother?” and he says, “I do not know; am I my brother's keeper?” Do you see how this made the sin more grievous? But not so his father; but what? Hearing, “Adam, where are you?” he says, “I heard your voice, and I was afraid, because I am naked, and I hid.” It is a great good to acknowledge one's sins and remember them continually; nothing so heals transgression as continual remembrance; nothing so makes a person reluctant toward wickedness. I know that it [the conscience] leaps away and does not bear to be scourged by the memory of its evils; but strangle the soul and put a muzzle on it; for like an unruly horse it chafes, and does not wish to persuade itself that it has sinned. But this is wholly satanic. But let us persuade it that it has sinned, so that it may also repent, and having repented may be freed from punishments. How do you expect, tell me, to obtain pardon for your sins, when you have not yet confessed them? Surely the sinner is worthy of mercy and love for humankind; but you, having in no way persuaded yourself that you have sinned, how do you expect to be shown mercy, [being so shameless] about … [Let us persuade ourselves] that we have sinned; let us not say it with the tongue only, but also with the mind; let us not only call ourselves sinners, but also reckon up the sins, listing each one by its kind. I do not say to you, “Parade yourself,” nor “Accuse yourself before others,” but I advise you to obey the prophet who says, “Reveal your way to the Lord.” Confess these things before God; before the judge confess your sins, praying, if not with the tongue, at least with the memory; and so ask to be shown mercy. If you keep your sins continually in memory, you will never bear a grudge against your neighbor. I do not mean this: if you are persuaded that you are a sinner; this cannot humble the soul as much as the sins themselves, by themselves, and examined one by one. You will not bear a grudge, if you keep all these in memory; you will not be angry, you will not revile, you will not think highly of yourself, you will not fall into the same things again; you will be more vigorous for good things.

Do you see how many good things are born from the remembrance of sins? Let us, then, write them on our minds. I know that the soul does not bear so bitter a memory; but let us compel it and force it. It is better that it be stung by memory now than by punishment at that time. Now, if you remember them, and continually bring them before God, and pray about them, you will quickly wipe them out; but if you forget them now, then you will remember them even against your will, when they are brought into the open before the whole world and paraded before all, friends and enemies and angels. For it was not to David alone that he said, “What you did in secret, I will make plain to all,” but also to all of us. You feared men, he says, and you were more ashamed than of God; and you took no thought of God's seeing, but you respected men: “for the eyes of men,” it says, “this is their fear.” That is why you will pay the penalty before these very men; “for I will reprove you,” setting your sins before the eyes of all. For that this is true, and on that day the sins of all of us are paraded, unless we wipe them out now by continual remembrance, hear how the cruelty and inhumanity of those who did not show mercy here is paraded: “I was hungry,” he says, “and you gave me no food.” When is this said? In a corner? In a hidden place? Not at all; but when? “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and gathers all the nations,” when he separates these from those, then, with all hearing, he will say, having set them on the right and on the left, “I was hungry, and you gave me no food.” See again the five virgins hearing before all, “I do not know you.” For the five and five do not show only the number five, but all the wicked and cruel and inhuman among the virgins, and those not such. So too the one who buried the one talent heard before all, both those who brought five and those who brought two, “Wicked and slothful servant.” He convicts them then not only by words, but also by deeds; as the evangelist too says, “They will look on him whom they pierced.” For the resurrection of all will be together, of sinners and righteous; together he will be present judging all. Consider, then, who will be in dejection then, in pain, dragged to the fire, while others are crowned. “Come,” he says, “you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world”; and again, “Depart from me into the fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” Let us not hear these words merely, but let us picture them to our sight too, and think that he is present now and saying these things, and that we are being led away into that fire. What soul shall we have? What comfort? What then, when we are cut in two? What when we are accused of robbery? What excuse shall we be able to make? What plausible word? None; but we must be bound, hanging our heads, dragged to the mouths of the furnaces, to the river of fire, to the darkness, to the undying punishments, and be unable to beg anyone for release. “For it is not possible,” he says, “it is not possible to cross from here to there; for there is a great chasm between us and you”; and it is not possible even for those who wish to cross over and reach out a hand; but we must burn forever, with no one helping us, even if it is a father, even a mother, even anyone at all, even one who has great boldness with God. “For a brother does not redeem,” it says; “will a man redeem?” Since, then, it is not possible to have hopes of salvation in another, but in oneself, after God's love for humankind, I beg you, let us do everything so that our life may become pure and our conduct excellent, and not receive any stain at all from the beginning; and if we have received one, let us not sleep after the stain, but let us persevere continually in washing off the filth by repentance, by tears, by prayers, by almsgiving. “What then,” someone says, “if I do not have the means to give alms?” But you have a cup of cold water, however poor you are; but you have two mites, however much in poverty you are; but you have feet to visit the sick, to go into a prison; but you have a roof to receive strangers. For there is no pardon, there is none at all, for one who does not give alms. We say these things to you continually, so that we may accomplish at least a little by repetition; we say these things, caring not so much for those who receive the benefit as for you. For to them you give the things here, but you receive in return the heavenly things; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, honor, and worship, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

… [So terrifying was the sight that] Moses said, “[I am terrified and trembling]. [But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to myriads of angels, to a festal gathering and assembly] of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks better than [that of Abel].” The things of the temple were wonderful, the Holy of Holies; and fearful again were the things that happened at Mount Sinai: the fire, the darkness, the gloom, the tempest. For God appeared, it says, on Sinai through fire and tempest and gloom. The new covenant, however, was given with none of these, but was given by Christ in plain conversation. See, then, how he makes comparisons of these things too; and he naturally set them last. For when he had persuaded them by countless arguments, when he had also shown the difference between each covenant, then, as though it [the old] had already been condemned, he easily takes these in hand as well. And what does he say? “For you have not come to the sound of a trumpet and the voice of words, which those who heard begged that no further word be added to them; for they could not bear what was commanded: ‘Even if a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.’” These things were fearful, he says, and so fearful that they could not bear to hear, that not even a beast dared to go up. But not such as the things after these; for what is Sinai compared with heaven? What is fire that can be touched compared with God who cannot be touched? “For our God is a consuming fire,” he says. And that the things that happened on the mountain then were full of dread is clear from what they said: “Let not God speak, but let Moses speak to us.” “For they could not bear,” he says, “what was commanded: ‘Even if a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned’; and (so terrifying was the sight) Moses said, ‘I am terrified and trembling.’” What wonder if he speaks about the people suffering such things, when even he himself who entered the gloom where God was says, “I am terrified and trembling”? “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to myriads of angels, a festal gathering, and [to the assembly of the firstborn] …, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks better [than that of Abel].” … the superiority of the New over the Old. For instead of the Jerusalem below, the heavenly one: “[You have come],” he says, “to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem”; instead of Moses, Jesus: “And to the mediator,” he says, “of a new covenant”; and instead of the people, all the angels: “And to myriads of angels, a festal gathering,” he says. And whom does he call firstborn when he says, “And to the assembly of the firstborn”? All the choirs of the faithful. And he calls the same people “the spirits of the righteous made perfect.” Do not be distressed, then; you will be with these, he says. What is it that he says, “to the sprinkled blood that speaks better than Abel”? Did Abel's speak? Yes; and how, hear Paul saying, “By faith Abel offered to God a greater sacrifice than Cain, through which he was attested to be righteous; and through it, though he died, he still speaks.” God too shows this, saying, “The voice of your brother's blood cries out to me.” Either, then, one can say this, or that he is still sung even now; but not as Christ's is; for this cleansed all, and sends forth a voice more brilliant and more distinct, insofar as it has greater testimony, that of facts. “See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much more shall we not escape if we turn away from him who warns from heaven. His voice then shook the earth; but now he has promised, saying, ‘Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also heaven.’ And this ‘Yet once more’ indicates [the removal of what is shaken, as of things made, so that] the things that are not shaken may remain. Therefore, since we receive a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us have grace, through which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and awe. For our God is a consuming fire.” Those things were fearful, but these are much more wonderful and more splendid; for here there is no darkness, no gloom, no tempest, as there. And why did God appear through fire then? It seems to me that by these he hints at the obscurity of the Old [Testament], and the shadowed and veiled character of the law; and besides, to show that the lawgiver ought to be feared…

And what of the sounds of the trumpet? Naturally, as when a king is present. This at any rate will happen at the second coming too: “For the trumpet will sound,” it says, “and we shall all rise.” So the resurrection of all will be by the power of God; and the sound of the trumpet shows nothing other than this, that all must be raised. But then those things were perceptible to sense, sights and sounds; but all the things after these are spiritual and invisible. And the fire shows this, that God is fire: “For our God,” it says, “is a consuming fire”; and the gloom and the darkness and the smoke again show the fearfulness. So too Isaiah says, “And the house was filled with smoke.” And what does the tempest mean? The human race was careless; it had to be roused by these things. For no one was so sluggish as not to have his mind lifted up when these things were happening and laws were being given. “Moses spoke, and God answered him with a voice”; for the voice of God had to be borne [to them]. But since it was going to be through Moses, he therefore makes him trustworthy. They did not see him because of the gloom, they did not hear him because he was slow of speech; [therefore] God answers, speaking with a voice, as if addressing an assembly, and making what is legislated clearly audible. But let us look at what was said above: “For you have not come to a mountain that may be touched, and a burning fire, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice of words, which those who heard begged,” he says, “that no further word be added to them.” So they themselves became the cause of God's appearing through flesh. And what did they say? “Let Moses speak to us, and let not God speak to us.” Those who make comparisons tend to belittle the former, so as to show the latter much greater; but I, though I consider those things wonderful too (for they are God's works and the proof of his power), nevertheless show that ours are better and more wonderful even in this way. For they are great in two ways: in being splendid, and in being, though greater, more approachable and gentler. This he also says writing in the letter to the Corinthians: “But we with unveiled face behold the glory of the Lord,” and not as Moses put a veil over his face. Those men, he says, were not counted worthy of what we are. For of what were they counted worthy? They saw darkness, gloom; they heard a voice. But you too heard a voice, not through gloom, but through flesh; and you conversed with the Mediator. Besides, he also shows the invisibility [of God] through the darkness: “And gloom,” it says, “was under his feet.” Then even Moses was afraid, but now no one; the people stood below then, but we are not below, but above heaven, near God as sons, but not as Moses. There was a desert, here a city and “myriads of angels, a festal gathering”; here he shows the joy and gladness, instead of the gloom and darkness and tempest. “And to the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all.” Those did not draw near but stood far off, even Moses; but you have drawn near. Here he frightens them, saying, “And to God the judge of all.” So he will sit as judge not only of the Jews, nor of the believers, but of the whole world. “And to the spirits of the righteous made perfect”: he means the souls of the approved. “And to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood,” that is, of cleansing, “that speaks better than Abel.” And if the blood speaks, much more does the one who was slain live. And what does it speak? Hear: “And the Spirit,” it says, “intercedes with groanings [too deep for words].” How does it speak? For wherever it falls on a sincere mind, it raises it up and makes it speak … that is, “Do not despair.” “For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth.” Whom does he mean? Moses, it seems to me. What he means is this: if those who refused him who gave laws on earth did not escape, how shall we refuse him who gives laws from heaven? Here he shows not that that one is another (God forbid); he does not show one and another, but that he appears fearful, sending forth a voice from heaven. So he is the same, both this one and that one, but this one is fearful; for he speaks of a difference not of persons but of giving. How is this clear? From what he added, saying, “For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much more shall we not, who turn away from him who warns from heaven.” What then? Is this one other than that one? How then does he say, “His voice then shook the earth”? For it was the voice of the one who then gave the law that shook the earth. “But now he has promised, saying, ‘Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also heaven.’ And this ‘Yet once more’ indicates the removal of the things that are shaken, as of things made.” So everything will be taken out of the way, and will be fitted together for the better from above; for this is what he hints at in saying these things here. Why, then, do you grieve, if you suffer in a world that does not abide, if you are afflicted in a world that a little later passes away? If ease were in the latter part of the world, then one would have to be afflicted, looking to the end. “So that the things that are not shaken may remain,” he says. And what are the things that are not shaken? The things to come. Let us do everything, then, for this, so as to attain those, so as to enjoy those good things. Yes, I beg and entreat you, let us be eager for this. No one builds in a city that is about to fall. Tell me, I beg you, if someone said that this city would fall after a year, or such a one, but not certainly, would you have built in the city that was about to fall? So I say this now too: let us not build in this world; it will fall a little later, and everything will perish. And why do I say “it will fall”? Before the fall we shall perish and suffer terrible things; we shall depart from them. Why do we build on sand? Let us build on the rock; for whatever comes, that building remains impregnable; nothing will be able to take it, naturally; for that place is inaccessible to such assaults, just as the place here is accessible. For earthquakes and fires and enemy attacks [take] it, and while we are alive it is taken from us, and often it destroys us along with it. And when it stands, then either disease carries us off sooner, or, if we remain, does not let us enjoy it well; for what pleasure is there where there are diseases and false accusations and envy and plots? Or, if none of these troubles us, often, having no children, we are distressed and chafe, having no one to whom to hand over the houses and all the rest; and we waste away, as laboring for others; and often the inheritance has gone to enemies, not only when we have departed, but even while we are alive. What, then, is more wretched than to labor for enemies, and to gather sins for ourselves so that they may rest? And many examples of this are seen in the cities; and I keep silent so as not to grieve those who have been deprived; since I could have named some of them by name, and I had many stories to tell, and I could have shown you many houses that have received as owners the enemies of those who labored on them; and not houses only, but slaves too and the whole inheritance have often passed to enemies. For such are human things. But in heaven there is nothing of these to fear, that when one has died an enemy may come and succeed to the inheritance; for there is no death there, nor enmity. The tents of the saints are alone; and among those saints are exultation, joy, gladness; [for the voice of rejoicing is in the tents] of the righteous. They are eternal, having no end. These do not fall with time, they do not change owners, but stand in continual prime, naturally; for there is nothing corruptible or perishable there, but all things are immortal and undefiled. Let us, then, empty our money into this building; we have no need of builders or workmen; the hands of the poor build such houses: the lame, the blind, the maimed; these build those houses. And do not wonder, since these even procure the kingdom for us, and give us boldness toward God. For almsgiving is a most excellent art, and a patroness of those who practice it; for it is dear to God, and stands near him, easily asking favor for whomever it wishes, provided only that it is not wronged by us; and it is wronged when we practice it from robbery; for if it is pure, it gives great boldness to those who send it up. So great is its power that it intercedes even for those who have offended, even for those who have sinned. It bursts bonds, dissolves darkness, quenches fire, kills the worm, drives away the gnashing of teeth; for it the gates of heaven open with great freedom. And just as when a queen enters, none of the guards stationed at the doors will dare to ask who she is and where from, but all receive her at once, so too almsgiving; for it is truly a queen, making people like God: “For be merciful,” he says, “as your Father [in heaven is merciful].” … light, having golden wings, having a flight that greatly delights the angels. “There,” it says, “her back with the greenness of gold.” For like a golden and living dove, it flies, having a gentle look, a mild eye. Nothing is better than that eye. The peacock too is beautiful, but compared with her it is a jackdaw; so beautiful and wonderful is this bird. It always looks upward; it is surrounded by much glory of God; it is a virgin with golden wings, decently clad, with a white and gentle face; it is winged and light, standing beside the royal throne. When we are judged, it suddenly flies in and appears, and rescues us from punishment, covering us with its wings. God wants this more than sacrifices; he speaks much about it; so much does he love it: “The widow and the orphan and the poor,” it says, “he will uphold.” He loves to be called after it: “The Lord is compassionate and merciful,” says David, “long-suffering and abounding in mercy and true”; and again another: “The mercy of God is upon all the earth.” This saved the human race; for if God had not had mercy on us, all would have perished. This reconciled us when we were enemies; this worked countless good things; this persuaded the Son of God to become a slave and empty himself. Let us emulate this, beloved, through which we were saved; let us love it; let us prefer it to money, and even without money let us have a merciful soul. Nothing is so characteristic of a Christian as almsgiving; nothing do unbelievers and all others so admire as when we show mercy. For in many things we too need this mercy, and we say to God every day, “According to your great mercy have mercy on us.” Let us begin first; or rather we do not begin first, for he himself has already shown his mercy toward us. But, beloved, let us at least be second. For if people show mercy to the merciful man, even if he has committed countless sins, much more God. Hear the prophet saying, “But I am like a fruitful olive tree in the house of God.” Let us become such, let us become like an olive tree; let us be laden on every side with the commandments; for it is not enough to be like an olive tree, but [we must be] fruitful too. For there are some who, when they show mercy, give little, either once in the whole year, or once a week, or just a chance coin; these are olive trees, but not fruitful ones, but even dry. Because they show mercy, they are olive trees; but because they do not give generously, they are not fruitful olive trees. But let us become fruitful. As I have often said, and say now: the greatness of almsgiving is shown not by the measure of what is given, but by the intention of the giver. You know the story of the widow; it is good always to bring this example, so that even the poor man may not despair of himself, looking at the woman who put in the two mites. Some brought even hair for the construction of the temple, and not even these were rejected. But if they brought hair when they had gold, they were accursed; but if they brought this because they had only this, they were acceptable. That is why Cain too was blamed, not because he offered poor things, but because he offered the poorer of what he had. “Cursed,” it says, “is the one who has a male, and sacrifices a blemished one to God.” He did not say simply [“who sacrifices”], but, “who has,” it says, “and spares.” If, then, someone does not have, he is freed even from charges; or rather he has a reward. For what is cheaper than two obols, what more worthless than hair? What than a cup of fine flour? But nevertheless these were approved alike with calves and gold. For it is according to what one has that one is acceptable, not according to what one does not have; and, “As your hand has the means,” it says, “do good.” Therefore, I beg you, let us readily empty out our goods to the poor; even if they are few, we shall receive the same reward as those who put in more, or rather more than those who put in ten thousand talents. If we do these things, we shall obtain the ineffable treasures of God, if we not only hear but also do, if we not only praise but also show it by our deeds. May we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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.

“[Therefore, since we receive a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us have] grace, through which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and awe. For our God [is a consuming fire].” What he says elsewhere, “For the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are not seen are eternal,” making from this his encouragement in the evils we endure in the present life, this he does here too, and says, “Let us have grace,” that is, let us give thanks to God, let us remain steadfast. For not only ought we not to lose heart at present things, but we ought also to be most grateful to him for the things to come. “Through which we may serve God acceptably”; that is, for so it is possible to serve God acceptably, giving thanks in everything. “Do all things,” he says, “without murmuring and arguing.” For whatever someone does murmuring, he has lost the reward too, like the Israelites … murmurings. That is why he says, “Do not murmur.” So it is not possible to serve acceptably without being grateful to him for everything, both trials and relief. “With reverence and awe”: that is, let us utter nothing reckless, nothing shameless, but let us restrain ourselves so that we may be respected; for this is what he means: “with reverence and awe.” “Let brotherly love continue. Do not forget hospitality; for through it some have entertained angels without knowing it.” See how he commands them to keep what they have, and does not add other things; for he did not say, “Become lovers of the brothers,” but, “Let brotherly love continue.” And again he did not say, “Become hospitable,” as though they were not, but, “Do not forget hospitality”; for this was likely to happen as a result of their afflictions. Then he also adds what was enough to urge them on the more, saying, “[for through it] some have entertained angels [without knowing it].” Do you see how great the honor, how great the gain? What is “without knowing it”? They entertained them, he says, not knowing. That is why a great reward was given to Abraham, because he entertained them not knowing that they were angels; since, if he had known, it would be nothing wonderful. Some say that here he also hints at Lot himself, and says it about him. “Remember those [in prison as though in prison with them, those who are mistreated], as being yourselves also in the body. Let marriage be honorable among all, and the bed undefiled; for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterers. [Let your] way of life [be free from the love of money], being content with what you have.” See how much he speaks about chastity. He said, “Pursue peace and holiness”; and again, “That no one be sexually immoral or profane”; now again he says, “God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterers.” And everywhere the prohibition comes with a penalty. And how, see from this: having said, “Pursue peace with all, and holiness,” he added, “without which no one will see the Lord”; and here, “God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterers”; and having first set down, “Let marriage be honorable among all, and the bed undefiled,” and then adding the penalty, he shows that what followed was added justly. For if marriage was granted, the fornicator is justly punished, the adulterer justly penalized. Here he strips for the contest against the heretics. He did not again say, “Let no one be sexually immoral,” but having said it once, he then added it as a common exhortation, and not as aiming it at them. “Let your way of life be free from the love of money, being content with what you have.” He did not say, “Acquire nothing,” but, “Let your way of life be free from the love of money”; that is, let the mind be free, let the disposition show philosophy; and it will show it if we do not seek superfluities, if we keep to need alone. For above too he said, “And you accepted the plundering of your possessions with joy.” He exhorts them so as not to be lovers of money. “Being content,” he says, “with what you have.” Then here too comes the encouragement, so that they may not give up: “For he himself has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’ So that we may say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear; what will man do to me?’” See again, in [the trials] … [“Obey] your [leaders].” This he had long been in labor to say; that is why he said, “Pursue peace with all.” This he also urged on the Thessalonians, to hold [their leaders] in honor beyond measure. “Remember,” he says, “your leaders, who spoke to you the word of God; considering the outcome of their way of life, imitate their faith.” What sort of sequence is this? An excellent one; for he says, “considering their way of life,” that is, their life, “imitate their faith”; for faith comes from a pure life. Or by faith he means steadfastness. How? He shows that because they believed firmly in the things to come, they achieved the best way of life. For they would not have shown a pure life if they had been in doubt about the things to come, if they had wavered. So here too he treats the same thing. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Do not be carried away by various and strange teachings; for it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not by foods, by which those who walked in them were not benefited.”

Here by “yesterday” he means all past time; by “today” the present; by “forever” the infinite and endless. What he means is this: you have heard of a high priest, but not a high priest who comes to an end; for he is always the same. And perhaps because there were some who said that this crucified one is not the expected Christ, but another will come, he says, “yesterday and today,” and “the same forever,” showing by this that the one who came will come again, and that he himself both was and is and will be forever. For even now the Jews say that another will come; and having deprived themselves of the one who is, they will fall into the hands of the Antichrist. “Do not be carried away,” he says, “by various and strange teachings.” He wishes them to be carried away not only by strange teachings, but not even by various ones; for he knows that destruction comes to those who are carried away by both. “For it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not by foods, by which [those who walked in them were not benefited].” He hints at those who introduce the observance of foods; for to faith all things are pure; so there is need of faith, not foods. “We have an altar from which those who serve the tabernacle have no right to eat.” Our things, he says, are not like the Jewish ones, such that not even the high priest is permitted to partake of them. So, since he had said, “Do not observe,” and this seemed to be the part of one throwing down his own things, he turns it around again. “For do we not observe too?” he says. We do observe, and more strictly, not giving a share of them even to the priests themselves. “For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the holy places by the high priest as a sacrifice for sin are burned outside the camp. Therefore Jesus too, so that he might sanctify the people through his own blood, suffered outside the gate.” Have you seen the type shining out? “Outside the camp,” he says, and, “outside the gate.” Since, then, the things offered for sin were a kind of type, and were burned whole outside the camp, Jesus too, who was offered for our sins, naturally suffers outside the gate. So we too must imitate him who suffered for us, and be outside the world, or rather outside the affairs of the world. Showing this, he therefore added: “Let us, then, go out to him outside the camp, bearing his reproach”; that is, suffering the same things, sharing with him in his sufferings. He was crucified outside as a condemned man; let us not, then, be ashamed either to go out of the world; for this is what he hinted at by saying, “outside the camp” and “outside the gate.” “For here we have no lasting city,” he says, “but we seek the one to come. Through him, then, let us offer up a sacrifice of praise continually to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name.” He said “through him” as through a high priest, according to the flesh. “Of lips that confess his name,” he says. As if he said: if we must confess him, [let us say] nothing blasphemous, nothing reckless, nothing bold … let us do and say everything with reverence and awe. He says these things not idly, but because he knows that they are afflicted; and the soul in afflictions despairs and becomes shameless. “But let us not,” he says. See, again he said the same thing that he hinted at above. So we shall be able to do everything with reverence; for often, being ashamed even before men, we do not do many wicked things. “Do not forget to do good and to share.” Paul said these things then, but now I say them; and I say the same not only to the brothers who are present, but also to those absent. No one has plundered your possessions; and even if some have plundered them, show hospitality from what you have. For what defense shall we have from now on, when these men heard these things even after the plundering of their possessions? And see: here he says, “Do not forget to do good,” having said above, “[Do not forget] hospitality,” not indicating one thing and another, but the same thing by another word. And he did not say, “Do not forget entertaining strangers,” but “hospitality” (φιλοξενία), that is, do not merely receive strangers, but do it with love for the strangers. And he did not mention the reward to come and laid up, so as not again to make them more careless, but the reward already given; for he added, “Through it some have entertained angels without knowing it.” But let us look at what was said above. “Let marriage be honorable among all,” he says, “and the bed undefiled.” How is marriage honorable? Because it keeps the believer in chastity, he says. Here he also hints at the Jews, because they considered the marriage bed abominable: “And whoever,” it says, “is [unclean] from the bed, is not clean.” Things from nature are not abominable, you ungrateful and senseless Jew, but things from choice; for if marriage is honorable and pure, why do you think you are defiled by it? “Let your way of life,” he says, “be free from the love of money.” Since many, after emptying out their possessions, later wish to acquire them again under pretext of almsgiving, that is why he says, “Let your way of life be free from the love of money,” that is, so that we may keep to need and necessities. “What then,” someone says, “if we do not even have these?” That is not so, it is not so; for he himself has said, and does not lie, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” “So that we may say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear; what will man do to me?’” As if he said: you have the promise from him; do not doubt … “I will never leave you”: he says this not only about money, but speaks about all other things too. “The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear; what will man do to me?” He fittingly added the prophet's word, sealing his discourse with it, and making them more eager, so that they may not give up. Let us too, then, say this in all trials, and laugh at human affairs; as long as we have God gracious to us, no one will get the better of us. For just as, if he is an enemy, there is no gain even if all are our friends, so, if he is a friend, there is no harm even if all make war on us. That is why he said, “I will not fear; what will man do to me?” “Remember your leaders, who spoke to you the word of God.” Here I think he speaks about assistance too; for this is “who spoke to you the [word] of God.” “Considering the outcome of their way of life, imitate their faith.” What is “considering”? Turning it over continually, examining it in yourselves, reasoning, inquiring closely, testing as you wish. He said well, “the outcome of their way of life,” that is, their conduct to the end, because their way of life had a good end. “Jesus Christ,” he says, “is the same yesterday and today and forever.” What he means is this: do not think that he worked wonders then but does not work wonders now; he is the same; and since he is the same, there is no time when he cannot do the same things. Perhaps it was with this in view that he said, “Remember your leaders.” “Do not be carried away by various and strange teachings.” “Various”: of every kind; for such teachings have nothing firm, but are diverse, and especially the diversity about foods; that is why, taking his stand against this, he adds, “For it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not by foods.” These are the various ones, these the strange ones. Here he mocks them for the observance of foods; for he shows that from the observance of foods they fell into teaching other doctrines, and from these were carried away to various and strange teachings. And see him not daring to say this openly, but as in a riddle; for by saying, “Do not be carried away by various and strange teachings,” and, “It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not by foods,” he all but says Christ's word, in which he said, “Not what goes in [defiles a man].” And he shows that the whole is faith; if this strengthens it, the heart stands in safety. So faith strengthens; therefore reasonings shake; for faith is opposed to reasoning. “By which,” he says, “those who walked in them were not benefited.” For what is the gain from the observance, tell me? Does it not rather destroy? Does it not put such a person under sin? If one must observe, one can observe that from which benefit will come to those who observe. A good observance is … [toward] God, right faith. “By which,” he says, “those who walked in them were not [benefited],” that is, those who kept them continually. There is one observance: to abstain from sin. For what is the use, since some are so defiled as to be unable to partake of the sacrifices? So nothing saved them, although they were zealous about the observances; but since they did not have faith, they were not benefited even so. Then he does away with the sacrifice from the type, and leads his discourse to the archetype, saying, “For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the holy places by the high priest are burned outside the camp. Therefore Jesus too, so that he might sanctify the people through his own blood, suffered outside the gate.” So those things were a type of these, and so Christ fulfilled all things by suffering outside. Here he also shows that he suffered willingly; for he shows that those things too were not idle, but were a type, and the economy itself was not outside the passion, but the blood went up to heaven. Do you see, then, that we partake of blood that is brought into the holy places, the true holy places, of the sacrifice which the high priest alone enjoyed? We, then, partake of the reality. If, then, we partake not of reproach but of sanctification, the reproach is the cause of sanctification; for as he was reproached, so are we. If, then, we go out, we share with him. What then is “Let us go out to him”? Let us share his sufferings with him, let us bear his reproach; for he did not suffer outside the gate idly, but so that we too might take up his cross, and stay outside the world, and be eager to be so. Just as he was reproached as a condemned man, so are we. “And through him let us offer a sacrifice to God.” What sacrifice does he mean? He himself explained, saying, “The fruit of lips that confess his name,” that is, prayers, hymns, thanksgiving; for these are the fruit of the lips. They offered sheep and calves and gave them to the priest; but let us offer none of these, but thanksgiving, and the imitation of Christ in all things as far as possible. Let our lips bring forth this. “Do not forget to do good and to share; for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” Let us give him, he says, such a sacrifice, so that he may offer it to the Father; for otherwise it is not offered, except through the Son; or rather through a contrite heart too. He said all these things so because of those among his hearers who were still in a weaker state; since that the grace belongs to the Son is clear; for otherwise how is the honor equal? “That all may honor the Son,” he says, “just as they honor the Father.” If, when the Father is glorified, the Son is not glorified with him, where is the equality of honor? Since the fruit of lips that confess his name is to be grateful to him, that is, for all things, and for what he suffered for us, let us bear everything thankfully, whether it is poverty, or disease, or anything else whatever; for he alone knows what is profitable for us. “For we do not know,” it says, “what we should pray for as we ought.” We, then, who do not even know how to ask for what we ought unless we lay hold of the Spirit, how could we know what is profitable? Let us, then, be eager to offer thanksgiving for all things, and let us bear nobly everything that befalls. When we are in poverty, when in disease, let us give thanks; when we are falsely accused, let us [give thanks]; when we suffer evil, let us give thanks; this makes us near to God; then we also have God as our debtor. But when we fare well, we are debtors and accountable to God; and besides, these things often turn to our condemnation, but those to the payment for sins. Those draw mercy, those draw love for humankind; but these lift us to pride, these lead to carelessness, and prepare one to have great fancies about oneself; these make one slack. That is why the prophet said, “[It is good for] me, O Lord, that you humbled me, so that I might learn your statutes.” When Hezekiah had been benefited and freed from his evils, his heart was lifted up on high; when he was sick, then he was humbled, then he came near to God. “When he slew them,” it says, “then they sought him, and turned and came early to God”; and again, “When he grew fat, [he kicked]”; … “The Lord is known by executing judgments.” Affliction is a great good. The way is narrow; so affliction pushes us into the narrow way; the one who is not afflicted will not be able to enter. For the one who afflicts himself in the narrow way is the one who also enjoys rest; but the one who broadens himself neither enters, and is afflicted besides, wedged in, so to speak. Hear how Paul entered this narrow way: “I pummel my body,” he says, “and enslave it.” He pummeled his body so as to be able to enter; that is why he continued giving thanks to God in all afflictions. Have you been fined money? … the things said against you, of which you are not conscious? Rejoice and exult: “For blessed are you,” he says, “when they reproach you and say every evil word against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.” Why are you surprised if you are distressed and [wish] to be relieved of trials? Paul wished to be relieved, and called on God many times, and did not obtain it; for “three times” means many times: “Three times I entreated the Lord about this,” he says, “and he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” By weakness he means here afflictions. What then? Since [he heard] this, he bore it thankfully, and says, “Therefore I take pleasure in weaknesses,” that is, I am content, I find rest in afflictions. Let us, then, give thanks for all things, for both relief and affliction … in poverty let us give thanks … let us not murmur, let us not be ungrateful. Say you too, “Naked I came out of my mother's womb, and naked I shall depart.” You did not come out glorious; do not seek glory. Naked not only of money, but also of glory and good repute … Consider how many evils have often come from money; or rather, hear what Christ says: “For it is easier,” he says, “for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Do you see how many good things wealth becomes a hindrance to, and you seek to be rich? And do you not rejoice, being in poverty, that the hindrance has been overturned? So narrow is the way that leads into the kingdom; so broad is wealth, full of bulk and swelling. That is why he says, “Sell your possessions,” so that that way may receive you. Why do you long for money? This is why he took it from you, to free you from slavery; since true fathers too, when their son has been corrupted by some courtesan, and after much exhortation cannot persuade him to leave her, banish the courtesan. Such too is abundance of money. Caring for us, then, the Master, freeing us from the harm that comes from it, takes our money from us. Let us not, then, think poverty an evil; sin alone is an evil. Nor is wealth a good in itself; to please God is alone a good. Let us seek poverty, then, let us pursue it; so we shall lay hold of heaven, so we shall attain the good things in heaven; may we all attain these, by the grace and love for humankind 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.

“Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they keep watch over your souls, as those who will give an account, so that they may do this with joy and not with groaning; for that would be unprofitable for you.” Anarchy is an evil everywhere, and the occasion of many calamities, and the beginning of disorder and confusion; but above all in the church it is the more dangerous, as the office is greater and higher. For just as, if you remove the leader of a chorus, the chorus will not keep melody and order, and if you take away the general from the phalanx of an army, the battle line will no longer have rhythm and order, and if you remove the helmsman from a ship, [you sink] the vessel, so too, if you take away the shepherd from a flock, you have overturned and destroyed everything. Anarchy, then, is an evil and an occasion of overthrow; but no less an evil is the disobedience of those who are ruled; for the same thing happens again. For a people that does not obey its ruler is like one that has none, and perhaps even worse; for there they have pardon for the disorder, but here no longer, but they are even punished. But perhaps someone will say to us that there is a third evil too, when the ruler is wicked. I too know it, and it is no small evil, but much worse than anarchy; for it is better to be led by no one than to be led by a wicked man. For the former has often been saved, and often been in danger; but the latter will certainly be in danger, being led into pits. How then does Paul say, “Obey your leaders and submit to them”? Having said above, “[considering] the outcome [of their way of life, imitate] their faith,” then he said, “Obey your leaders and submit to them.” “What then,” someone says, “when he is wicked, and are we not to obey?” Wicked, how do you mean? If on account of faith, flee him and reject him, not only if he is a man, but even if he is an angel come down from heaven; but if on account of his life, do not be meddlesome. And I do not give this example from myself, but from the divine Scripture. For hear Christ saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have sat on Moses' seat.” Having first said many terrible things about them, he then says, “They have sat on Moses' seat. So do whatever they tell you to do; but do not do according to their works.” They have the dignity, he says, but they are of an unclean life. But pay attention not to their life but to their words. For no one would be harmed on account of their morals. Why? Because they are plain to all, and he himself, even if he is ten thousand times wicked, will never teach wicked things. But in the matter of faith, it is not plain to all, and the wicked man will not refrain from teaching [error]. Since “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged” too is about life, not about faith; at any rate what follows shows this: “For why do you see,” he says, “the speck in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” “So whatever they tell you to do,” he says, “do” (and “to do” belongs to works, not to faith); “but do not do according to their [works].” Do you see that the discourse is not about doctrines, but about life and works? But Paul first commended them, and then says, “Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they keep watch over your souls, as those who will give an account.” Let the rulers hear too, not only those ruled: that just as the ruled must be obedient, so the rulers too must be wakeful and sober. What are you saying? He keeps watch, has dangers hanging over his own head, is subject to the punishments for your sins, and because of you is liable to so great fear; and you are careless and coy and vulgar, and are not willing to obey? That is why he adds, saying, “So that they may do this with joy and not with groaning; for that would be unprofitable for you.” Do you see that the ruler who is despised must not avenge himself, but his great vengeance is to weep and groan? Naturally. For a physician despised by the sick man cannot avenge himself, but can weep and wail. So if the ruler groans, God avenges you. For if by groaning over our own sins we draw God to us, will we not much more do so by groaning over the arrogance and contempt of others? Do you see that he does not let him be carried into insults? Do you see how great the philosophy? The one despised must groan, the one trampled [and spat upon]; [do not be confident because] he does not avenge himself; for groaning is worse than any vengeance. For when he himself accomplishes nothing by groaning, he calls the Master; and just as with a teacher and tutor, when the child does not listen to him, the one who treats him more severely is called, so here too. Oh, how great the danger! What could one say to those wretched men who throw themselves into so great an abyss of punishments? You give account for all whom you rule, women and men and children; you put your head under so great a fire. I wonder whether any of the rulers can ever be saved, with so great a threat and the present carelessness, seeing that some still run after it and throw themselves into so great a burden of office. For if those dragged by necessity have no pardon or excuse when they manage the matter badly and neglect it (since Aaron too was dragged by necessity and was in danger, and Moses again was in danger, though he often refused; and Saul, entrusted with another office, after refusing was in danger, because he managed it badly), how much more those who are zealous for it and throw themselves into it? For such a one deprives himself much more of all pardon. One must fear and tremble, both because of conscience and because of the burden of the office, and neither refuse once when dragged, nor drag oneself when not dragged; but flee, foreseeing the greatness of the dignity, and, when seized, show reverence again. Let nothing be immoderate; let all be done in order. Before it happens, foreseeing it, withdraw, persuaded that you are unworthy of the thing; if seized, be reverent in the same way, showing fair-mindedness everywhere. “Pray for us,” he says; “for we are confident that we have a good conscience, wishing to conduct ourselves well in all things.” See that he defends himself in these words, as writing to those who were grieved with him, who turned away from him, who were disposed toward him as toward a transgressor, and did not bear even to hear his name. Since, then, he asked of those who hated him what all others ask of those who love them, for this reason he puts this here, saying, “We are confident that we have a good conscience.” Do not tell me the accusations, he says; our conscience condemns us in nothing, nor are we conscious of having [plotted against you] … “a good conscience, wishing to conduct ourselves well in all things”: so not only among the Gentiles, but also among you. We have done nothing with trickery, nothing with hypocrisy; for it was likely that they would say this of him: “For they have been told about you that you teach apostasy.” Not as an enemy, he says, nor as an opponent do I write these things, but as a friend. And he shows this from what follows too: “And I urge you the more earnestly to do this, so that I may be restored to you the sooner.” This was the mark of one who loved them greatly, to ask them so to pray: not simply, he says, but with all earnestness, so that I may come to you quickly. This is the mark of one conscious of nothing against himself, to be eager to come to them and to ask them to pray for him. For this reason, having first asked their prayers, he then himself prays all good things for them. “And may the God of peace,” he says. He said this because they were in dissension. If, then, God is the God of peace, do not be in dissension with us. “Who brought up from the earth the shepherd of the sheep.” This was said about the resurrection. “The great”: another addition. Here again, to the end, he confirms to them the word about the resurrection. “By the blood of the eternal covenant, our Lord Jesus Christ, equip you in every good work to do his will, working in you what is pleasing before him.” Again he bears great witness to them; for what is equipped [perfected] is what has a beginning and is then completed. And he prays for them, which is the mark of one who longs for them. And see: in the other letters he prays in the opening, but here at the end. “Working,” he says, “in you what is pleasing before him through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory to the ages of ages. Amen. And I urge you, brothers, bear with the word of exhortation; for I have written to you briefly.” Do you see that what he wrote to no one else, he writes to these? “For I have written to you briefly,” he says, … I think they were not very hostile toward Timothy; that is why he put him forward too. “You know,” he says, “that our brother Timothy has been released, with whom, if he comes soon, I will see you.” “Released,” he says: from where? I think he had been cast into prison; or, if not this, released from Athens; for this too lies in the Acts. “Greet all your leaders and all the saints. Those from Italy greet you. Grace be with you all. Amen.” Do you see how he shows that virtue is accomplished neither wholly from God nor from us alone? For by saying, “equip you in every good work,” and so on, he shows this, as if he said: you have virtue, but you need completion. And by saying “work and word,” he showed that one needs both an upright life and [right] doctrines. And he well added, “working in you what is pleasing before him.” “Before him,” he says; for this is the greatest virtue, to do before God what is pleasing; as the prophet too says, “And according to the cleanness of [my hands before his eyes].” … having written [many things], he said they were few, comparing them with what he was going to say; as he says elsewhere too, “As I wrote to you briefly, by which, when you read, you can perceive my insight into the mystery of Christ.” And see his wisdom: he does not say, “I urge you, bear with the word of admonition,” but “the word of exhortation,” that is, of comfort, of encouragement. No one can, he says, [grow weary] at the length of what has been said. What then? Was this what made them turn away? Not at all; but he does not wish [to say so; that is, even if you are faint-hearted]; for it is characteristic of such people not to bear a long discourse. “You know that our brother Timothy has been released, with whom, if he comes soon, I will see you”: [he] is ready to come with his disciple. “Greet your leaders and all the saints.” See how he honored them, since he wrote to these instead of to those. “Those from Italy greet you. Grace be with you all. Amen.” What was common to all, this he said last. And how is grace with us? If we do not insult the benefaction, if we do not become careless about the gift. “And what is grace?” someone says. The forgiveness of sins, the cleansing; for this is with us. For who, having insulted it, can keep the grace and not lose it? For example, he forgave you your sins; how then will grace be with you, that is, his favor, or the working of the Spirit, unless you draw it to yourself by good deeds? For this is the cause of all good things, that the grace of the Spirit always remains with us; for it guides us to all things, just as, when it flies away from us, it destroys us and leaves us desolate. Let us not, then, drive it away; for it is in our power both that it remain and that it depart. The one happens when we think of heavenly things; the other, when we think of worldly things. “Which the world,” he says, “cannot receive, because it does not see it, nor know it.” By the world he means the wicked and shameful life. Do you see that it does not belong to a worldly soul to have it? We need, then, much diligence so that it may be held fast by us, so that it may manage all our affairs and make them safe and in great peace. For just as a ship sailing with a stern wind cannot be hindered or sunk as long as it enjoys a favorable and continuous wind, but after its return gives great glory of [its cargo] to the sailors and to the [passengers, freeing them] from fear, and providing its course as a most pleasant sight, so too the soul, fortified by the divine [Spirit], [rises above the waves] of worldly things, and cuts the road that leads to heaven more vigorously than that ship, since it is driven not by wind but by the Paraclete himself, having all its sails full and clean; and it casts out of our mind everything slack and dissolute. For just as wind falling on a slack sail would not work, so the Spirit does not endure to remain in a slack soul; but there is need of much tension, of vehemence. Our mind must be on fire, and our works everywhere strained and taut; for example, when we pray, we must do it with much tension, stretching the soul toward heaven, not with ropes, but with vehement eagerness. When we show mercy again, we need tension, lest care for the house, and the support of children, and concern for the wife, and fear of poverty, coming in, slacken the sail. For if we stretch it on every side with the hope of the things to come, it receives the working of the Spirit well; and none of those perishable and wretched things will fall upon it; but even if one falls, it has done it no harm, but has been quickly repelled by its tightness, and fallen off, shaken away. For this reason, then, we need much tension; for we too sail a great and wide sea, full of many wild beasts and many rocks, bringing us many storms, and raising the most grievous tempest out of a clear sky. If, then, we wish to sail with ease and without danger, we must stretch our sails, that is, our will; for this is enough for us. Since Abraham too, when he stretched his longing toward God and presented his will complete, what else did he need? Nothing; but “he believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.” And faith belongs to a sincere will. He offered his son; and though the deed did not take place, the reward was given. Let our sails, then, be clean and new, not worn out; “for what is becoming old and growing aged is near to vanishing”; not torn, so as to hold the working of the Spirit; “for the natural man,” he says, “does not receive the things of the Spirit.” For just as spiders' webs would not receive a rush of wind, so neither will a worldly soul nor a natural man ever be able to receive the grace of the Spirit. For our thoughts differ in nothing from those [webs], keeping only the appearance of a sequence, but deprived of all strength. But ours are not such, if we are sober; but whatever falls upon them, they hold everything, and are above all things. Let a man be spiritual, and let countless terrible things befall him; but he is caught by none of them. And why do I say this? Let poverty come upon him, disease, insults, revilings, jests, blows, every kind of punishment, every kind of mockery and reproach and outrage; but as though he were outside the world and freed from the passions of the body, so he will laugh at all things. And that the words are not a boast, I think there are many such even now; for example, of those who have taken to the deserts. “But that is nothing wonderful,” someone says. But I say that even of those in the cities there are men such as these, who are unsuspected. And if you wish, I shall be able to show some of those of old too. And so that you may learn, consider Paul: what terrible thing did he not suffer, what did he not undergo? But he bore everything nobly. Let us too imitate him; for so we shall be able both to be pleasing before God and to be brought into calm harbors with much merchandise. Let us, then, stretch our mind toward heaven, let us be held by that longing, let us clothe ourselves with the spiritual fire, let us gird ourselves with the flame. No one who carries a flame fears those who meet him; even if it is a wild beast, even if a man, even if countless snares, as long as he is on fire, all give way, all yield. The flame is irresistible, the fire unbearable; it consumes everything. Let us clothe ourselves with this fire, and send up glory to 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.