Homilies on Philippians 15.2–15.5

For many, having come into abundance, have often become more slothful and have not known how to bear prosperity; many have often taken occasion from it to work no longer. But not Paul; for when he received, he spent it on others and emptied it out for others. This is knowing how to use what one has well. He was not let loose, nor did he rejoice over his abundance, but he was the same in want and in plenty, neither crushed by the one nor puffed up by the other. “I know how to be full,” he says, “and to be hungry, both to abound and to be in want.” Many do not know how to be full, like the Israelites: for they ate and kicked. But I remain in the same good order. He shows that he was neither pleased now nor grieved before; and if he was grieved, it was not for his own sake but for theirs; for he himself was disposed the same way. “In everything,” he says, “and in all things I have been initiated”: that is, I have had experience of all things in this long time, and all these I have achieved. But since the thing was a great boast, see how quickly he checks it and says, “I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me,” he says. The achievement is not mine, but belongs to the one who gave the strength. But again, since those who do good, when they see that the receiver is not well disposed but despises what is given, become more slothful (for they were disposed as doing a favour and giving relief), so that this may not happen, and no one may say, “Since Paul despises relief, these must become more slothful,” see how he heals this too. For by what he said he pulled down their pride; but by what follows he raised their eagerness: “Nevertheless you did well in sharing in my affliction.” Do you see how he both set himself apart and joined himself to them again? This belongs to genuine and spiritual friendship. Do not think, he says, because I am not in need, that I do not need the thing; I need it for your sake. How, then, did they share in his afflictions? By this; as he also said when in bonds, “you all being partakers with me of grace.” For suffering for Christ is a grace, as he himself says somewhere: “For to you it has been granted by God, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him.” For since those things, said by themselves, were enough to pain them, that is why he soothes them and accepts and praises them again, and this in measure. For he did not say, “giving”, but “sharing”, showing that they too gained, if indeed they became partners in the contests. He did not say, “lightening my afflictions”, but “sharing in my affliction”, which was more dignified. Do you see Paul's humility? Do you see his nobility? When he had shown that he needed nothing from them for his own sake, then at last he speaks even humble words without fear, the very words beggars use: “as you are accustomed to give”. For he refuses to do or say nothing, so long as he achieves the one thing he wants. What is this? Do not think, he says, that the words are shameless: the reproach, and saying, “now at last you have revived”, and the talk of being in need; for I do not say these things as one in need, but what? From great confidence in you; and you are the cause of this too. Do you see how he soothes them, and how he says, “You are the cause,” having leapt at the thing before the others, and having given us boldness to remind you of such things? And see the dignity: while they were not sending, he did not reproach them, so that he might not seem to be serving his own interest; but when they had sent, then he rebuked them for the time past, and they bore it; for then he would not seem to be serving his own interest. “You yourselves also know, Philippians,” he says, “that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only.” Ah, how great a praise! If the Corinthians and Romans are urged on by hearing those things from him, but these, when no church had begun (for “in the beginning of the gospel,” he says), showed such zeal toward the saint that, without even having an example, they themselves were the first to begin this fruit-bearing. And one cannot say that they did this while he stayed with them, or for the sake of what concerned themselves; for “when I departed,” he says, “from Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only.” What is “receiving”? And what is “shared”? Why did he not say, “No church gave to me,” but, “shared in the matter of giving and receiving”? For the thing is a partnership. “For if we sowed spiritual things among you,” he says, “is it a great thing if we reap your fleshly things?” And again, “that your abundance may be for their want.” Do you see how they shared, in the matter of giving fleshly things and receiving spiritual things? For just as those who sell and buy share with one another, giving each other what they have (for this is partnership), so it is here too. For there is not, there is not anything more profitable than this buying and trading: it takes place on earth, but is completed in heaven; those who buy stand on earth, but they buy and contract for the things in heaven, paying an earthly price.

[3.] But do not condemn me: heavenly things are not bought with money; it is not money itself that buys, but the will of the one who lays down the money, the philosophy of being above worldly things, love for humankind, almsgiving. For if silver bought it, the woman who put in the two small coins would have received nothing great; but since not the silver but the will prevailed, she, showing her whole will, received everything. Let us not say, then, that the kingdom is bought with money: not with money, but with the will shown through money. “Then there is need of money,” someone says? There is need not of money, but of will. If you have this, you will be able to buy heaven even with two small coins; but without it, not even ten thousand talents of gold will be able to do what the two coins did. Why? For when, having much, you lay down less, you have done almsgiving, but not as much as the widow; for you did not lay it down with as much eagerness as she; for she deprived herself of everything, or rather she did not deprive herself, but gave everything to herself. God promised the kingdom not for talents of gold, but for a cup of cold water, that is, for eagerness; not for death, but for will; since it is not even a great thing. For what is it to give one life? He gave one man; but one man is not equivalent. “For even in Thessalonica you sent once and again for my needs.” Again the praise is great, if, while staying in the metropolis, he was fed by the small city. And see, so as not to make them more slothful by always drawing himself out of need, as I said before, having shown in so many ways that he does not need, he made this plain by one thing only, saying, “for my needs”; and he did not say “mine”, but simply, taking care of dignity; and not only this, but also what follows. For since he was aware that it was very humble, he again secures it by a correction, saying, “Not that I seek the gift.” What he said above, “Not that I speak in respect of want,” showing the same, though that is greater than this. For it is one thing not to seek when in want, and another, being in want, not even to think oneself in want. “Not that I seek the gift,” he says, “but I seek the fruit that abounds to your account,” not mine. Do you see that the fruit is born for them? I say these things for your sake, he says, not my own, for your salvation; for I gain nothing by receiving; the grace belongs to the givers. For to those who give the repayment is kept there; but for those who receive, what is given is spent here. Again with praise and sympathy … For since he said, “I do not seek”, so as not again to make them more slothful, he says, “But I have received everything, and abound.” That is, by this gift you have filled up even what was omitted, which was most of all able to make them more eager. For the more philosophic they are, the more those who do good seek even the gratitude of those they benefit. “I have received everything, and abound”: that is, you have not only made up what was lacking in the past time, but even exceeded it. Then, so that he may not seem to reproach them for this, see how he puts the seal on it. For since he said, “Not that I seek the gift,” and “now at last”, and showed that the thing was a debt (for this is “I have received”), he again shows that they did more than the debt, and says, “I have received everything and abound; I am filled.” I do not say these things idly, nor from affection, but what? “having received from Epaphroditus the things from you, an odour of sweet smell, an acceptable sacrifice, well pleasing to God.” Ah, to what height he raised their gift! It was not I who received, he says, not I, but God through me. So even if I do not need it, do not be concerned; for God did not need it either, and yet he accepted it, so that the divine Scripture did not even refuse to say, “The Lord smelled an odour of sweet smell”, which belongs to one delighted. For you know, you know how our soul is affected by sweet smells, how it is delighted, how it is gladdened. So Scripture did not refuse to speak of God in so human and lowly a word, so as to show people that the gifts from them were acceptable. For it was not the savour or the smoke that made them acceptable, but the will that offered them; since, if it were that, Cain's too would have been accepted. So it said that he is delighted, and how he is delighted; for otherwise people would not have learned it. He, then, who is in no need says that he is so delighted, so that they may not become slothful because he needs nothing. And when afterwards, neglecting the rest of virtue, they trusted in these things, see how he corrects them again, saying, “Shall I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats?” This is what Paul too says: “Not that I seek the gift.” “And my God will fill every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”

See how he also prays for them, as the poor do. And if Paul prays for those who give, much more let us not be ashamed to do this when we receive. Let us not receive as though we ourselves were in need, nor rejoice for our own sake, but for the sake of the givers themselves. So we too, the receivers, shall have a reward, if we rejoice for their sake; so we shall not be indignant when they do not give, but rather grieve for them; so we shall also make them more eager, if we teach them that we do not do these things for our own sake. “And my God,” he says, “will fill every need of yours”, or “every grace”, or “every joy”. If it is “every grace”, he means not only this almsgiving on earth, but every achievement; but if it is “every need”, which I think is rather what is said, this is what he wishes to show: since he said before, “you lacked opportunity”, he adds here what he does in the Letter to the Corinthians, saying, “He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed and increase the fruits of your righteousness.” For he prays for them to be in abundance and to have something to sow; and he prays for them not simply to be in abundance, but “according to his riches”. So this too is in measure. For if they had been like him, so philosophic and so crucified, he would not have done this; but since they were men, craftsmen, poor, having wives, rearing children, presiding over households, and they gave even this from little, and had some desire for present things too, he prays for them condescendingly. For it is nothing absurd to pray for sufficiency and abundance for those who use them so. See, then, what he prays for: he did not say, “May he make you rich,” but, “will fill every need of yours”; so that you may not be in want, but have what is needed; since Christ too, giving us a rule of prayer, put this into the prayer, teaching us to say, “Give us today our daily bread.” “According to his riches.” What is this? According to his generosity, that is, what is easy and possible for him, and to do it quickly. And since I spoke of “need”, so that they might not think he will keep them in straits, that is why he added, “according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Everything will so abound for you, he says, that you have it in his glory. Either, then, he means this, that you lack nothing (“And great grace,” it says, “was upon them all; for there was not a needy person among them”), or he urges them to do everything for his glory; as if he said: that you may use your abundance for his glory. “To our God and Father be the glory forever and ever. Amen.” This glory becomes not the Son's only, but also the Father's. For when the Son is glorified, then the Father is. For since he said that this was to be for Christ's glory, so that no one might think it his alone, he added, “To our God and Father be the glory”, clearly this which comes to the Son. “Greet every saint in Christ Jesus.” This too is no small thing; for even greeting them by letter belongs to great goodwill. “The brothers who are with me greet you.” Yet you said, “I have no one … who will care”; how, then, do you now say, “the brothers who are with me”? Either he means the brothers with him, showing that he has no one with him who is like-minded, not speaking of those in the city (for what necessity did they have to take on the affairs of the apostles?); or that he does not refuse to call these too brothers. “All the saints greet you, especially those of Caesar's household. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.” He raised them up and strengthened them, showing that the preaching had reached even the imperial household. For if those in the palace despised everything for the King of heaven, much more ought they to do this. And this too was a proof of Paul's love, that he told much about them and said great things, so that he brought even those in the palace to longing, so as to greet those they had not seen. For since the faithful were then in affliction, love was great. How? Those separated from one another were joined together, and those far off greeted one another as though near, and each was disposed toward the others as toward his own members. The poor man was disposed alike toward the rich, and the rich toward the poor; and there was no superiority, because all alike were hated and driven out, and for the same things. For just as captives from different cities, when they have been taken away and come to one city, cling greatly to one another, the common misfortune joining them together, so then too, the sharing of sufferings and afflictions joining them together, they had great love for one another.

For affliction is an unbreakable bond, an increase of love, an occasion of compunction and reverence. For hear David saying, “It is good for me, Lord, that you humbled me, that I might learn your statutes”; and again another prophet saying, “It is good for a man when he bears a yoke from his youth”; and again, “Blessed is the man whom you discipline, Lord”; and another saying, “Do not make light of the discipline of the Lord”; and elsewhere, “If you come to serve the Lord, prepare your soul for temptation.” And Christ said to his disciples, “In the world you will have affliction, but take courage”; and again, “You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice”; and again, “Narrow and hard is the way.” Do you see affliction praised everywhere, everywhere taken up as necessary for us? For if in the outside contests no one could receive a crown without it, unless he fortified himself with toils and abstinence from food and a rule of diet and vigils and countless other things, much more here. For whom do you wish to name? The emperor? But not even he lives a life free from care, but one full of many afflictions and anxieties. Do not look at the diadem, but at the surge of cares through which tumult is born for him; nor look at the purple, but at the soul that is darker than that purple; the crown does not bind the head so tightly as care binds the soul; nor look at the crowd of bodyguards, but at the crowd of despondencies. For one cannot find a private house full of as many cares as the palace. Deaths are expected every day by these very men, and blood is seen before the table and before the drink. And at night one cannot even say how often they leap up and start out of bed in alarm. And this in peace; but if war seizes them, the cares grow still greater. What, then, could be more pitiable than this life? And how many things come from their own people, from their subjects, I mean? Indeed the royal floor is always full even of kindred blood. And, if you wish, I will tell some things, and perhaps you will recognize that it is so; I will speak indeed of old things, but things still kept in memory, since they happened in our own times. So-and-so, they say, suspecting his wife of adultery, bound her naked on the mountains (or: to mules) and gave her to wild beasts, though she had already become the mother of many emperors to him. What kind of life do you think he lived? For he would not have gone to such a punishment unless he had been utterly consumed by the passion. This same man slaughtered his own son; or rather his brother … himself with his children. And it is said that this man also killed his own brother. And one killed himself when caught by a usurper, and another killed his own nephew, who shared the empire with him, which he himself had entrusted to him. Another saw his wife destroyed by pessaries: for since she did not bear children, a wretched and miserable woman (wretched and miserable indeed, who hoped to provide God's gift by her own wisdom) gave her pessaries and destroyed the empress, and was herself destroyed with her. Another again after this was killed by deadly poisons, and the cup was for him no longer a drink but death; and his son had his eye gouged out for fear of what was to come, though he had done no wrong. Another, it is not even good to say how pitiably he ended his life. Of those after these, one was burned, like a wretched and miserable man, with horses and beams and everything else, and his poor wife was left in widowhood; for the griefs she was forced to have in her lifetime, when that man rose up against him, cannot even be told. And the one who rules now, has he not, since he put on the diadem, been in toils, in dangers, in griefs, in despondencies, in misfortunes, in plots? But the kingdom of heaven is not like this; but after receiving it there is peace, life, joy, gladness. But, as I was saying, there is no life without hardship. And if in worldly affairs even the one who is most blessed, the one in the kingship, is full of so many misfortunes, what do you think it is in private life? And how many other evils there are cannot even be told. How many stories have often been invented from these things! Almost all the tragedies on the stage are woven from kings, and the stories; for most of what is in the stories has been invented from what happened; for so it also gives pleasure; for example, the banquets of Thyestes, and how that whole house ended in misfortunes. But these things we know from what has been composed by outsiders; if you wish, we will speak from the Scriptures too. Saul was the first to reign, but you know how he too perished after experiencing countless evils. After him David, Solomon, Abijah, Hezekiah, Josiah likewise. For it is not possible to pass through the present life without affliction, without toils, without despondency. But let us be despondent not over such things as kings are, but over such things as bring us great gain: “For godly grief works repentance to salvation, not to be regretted.” Over these one must grieve, over these be pained, over these be stung. So Paul grieved over sinners, so he wept: “For out of much affliction,” he says, “and anguish of heart I wrote to you with many tears.” For since he had nothing of his own to mourn, he did this for others; or rather he considered those things his own too, as regards mourning. Others were made to stumble, and he burned; others were weak, and he was weak. Such grief is good; it is better than any worldly joy. One who mourns so I prefer to all people; or rather the Lord himself calls those who mourn so blessed, the sympathetic. I do not so much admire him for his dangers (or rather I admire him no less than for the dangers, by which he died every day); but this takes hold of me more. For it came from a soul that loved God and was tender, from love, which Christ himself sought, from brotherly and fatherly sympathy, or rather from something greater than both. So one must be disposed, so one must weep: such tears are full of great gladness; such mourning is an occasion of joy. And do not tell me, “What is the gain of lamenting for those over whom I do this?” Even if we benefit those we lament in nothing, we shall certainly benefit ourselves. For the one who grieves so for others will do this much more for his own sins; the one who weeps so over the sins of others will not pass by his own offences without tears; or rather he will not even sin quickly. But the terrible thing is that, though we are commanded to lament so over sinners, we show no repentance even over our own, but are disposed insensibly while we stumble, and we care about everything and reckon up everything rather than our own sins. That is why we rejoice with a useless joy, the joy of the world, which is quickly quenched, which gives birth to countless griefs. Let us grieve, then, with grief that is the mother of joy, and not take pleasure in joy that gives birth to grief; let us shed tears that sow great pleasure, and not laugh the laughter that gives birth to gnashing of teeth; let us be afflicted with the affliction from which relief springs, and not seek the luxury from which much affliction and pain are born. Let us toil a little on earth, that we may live in delight forever in heaven; let us afflict ourselves in this transitory life, that in the endless one we may obtain relief; let us not let ourselves go in this brief life, that we may not groan in the endless one. Do you not see how many are afflicted even here for the sake of worldly affairs? Consider that you too are one of them, and bear affliction and pain, nourished by the hope of what is to come. You are not better than Paul or Peter, who never obtained relief, who passed their whole life in hunger and thirst and nakedness. If you wish to obtain the same things as they, why do you travel the opposite road? If you wish to arrive at that city of which they were counted worthy, walk that road which leads there. The road of relief does not lead there, but the road of affliction: that one is broad, this one narrow. Let us walk this one, that we may obtain eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, power, honour, now and always and to the ages of ages. Amen.