Homilies on Acts, Homily 1

“In my former account, Theophilus, I wrote about everything Jesus began to do and teach, until the day He was taken up, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the Apostles He had chosen.” Many people know so little about this Book and its author that they are not even aware such a book exists. This is especially why I have chosen this narrative as my subject: to draw those who do not know it to it, and not leave such a treasure hidden from sight. It can benefit us no less than the Gospels themselves, so full is it of Christian wisdom and sound teaching, especially concerning the Holy Spirit. Let us not hurry past it, then, but examine it closely. Here we can see Christ's predictions in the Gospels actually fulfilled, and recognize in the events themselves the bright evidence of Truth shining through them, and the mighty change taking place in the disciples now that the Spirit has come upon them. For example, they heard Christ say, “Whoever believes in Me will also do the works I do, and will do greater works than these.” (John xiv. 12.) Again, He foretold that the disciples would be brought before rulers and kings, flogged in their synagogues, suffer terrible things, and overcome them all (Matt. x. 18), and that the Gospel would be preached throughout the world (Ib. xxiv. 14). In this Book we can see how all this happened exactly as He said, along with other things He told them while still with them. Here you will see the Apostles themselves speeding over land and sea as if on wings. The very men who were once so fearful and lacking in understanding suddenly become completely different: they despise wealth and rise above glory, passion, lust, and all such impulses. What unity there is among them now! Nowhere is there the envy of before, or the old craving for first place. Every virtue has reached its full perfection in them, and shining through everything with surpassing brightness is the love about which the Lord gave so many instructions, saying, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.” (John xiii. 35.) Besides, here we find teachings we could not have known as certainly as we now do if this Book had not existed. The very crowning point of our salvation would have remained hidden, both in conduct and in doctrine. Most of this work, however, concerns the acts of Paul, who “worked more abundantly than all of them.” (1 Cor. xv. 10.) The reason is that its author, the blessed Luke, was his companion. Luke's fine qualities, clear enough in many other ways, appear especially in his steadfast attachment to his Teacher, whom he constantly followed. At a time when everyone had abandoned him, one going to Galatia and another to Dalmatia, listen to what Paul says about this disciple: “Only Luke is with me.” (2 Tim. 4:10–11.) Giving the Corinthians instructions about him, he says, “Whose praise in the Gospel is throughout all the Churches.” (2 Cor. viii. 18.) Again, when he says, “He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve,” and, “according to the Gospel you received” (1 Cor. xv. 5, 1), he means Luke's Gospel. So there can be no mistake in attributing this work to Luke—and when I say Luke, I mean Christ. Why, then, did he not relate everything, since he stayed with Paul to the end? We may answer that what is written here was enough for attentive readers. The sacred writers always addressed what mattered immediately at the time, whatever it was. Writing books was not their aim; indeed, they handed down many things through unwritten tradition. Everything in this Book deserves admiration, especially the Apostles' way of adapting themselves to their hearers' needs. The Spirit prompted this accommodation, arranging that they should dwell chiefly on what concerns Christ as man. Although they speak so much about Christ, they say little about His Godhead. They spoke mostly of His Humanity, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension. The first thing needed was belief that He had risen and ascended into heaven. Just as Christ Himself most insisted on making it known that He had come from the Father, this writer's chief aim is to declare that Christ rose from the dead, was received into Heaven, went to God, and came from God. Unless His coming from God was first believed, the Jews would have found the entire teaching still more incredible with the Resurrection and Ascension added to it. So he leads them gently, step by step, to higher truths. In Athens Paul even calls Him simply a man, saying nothing more. (Acts xvii. 31.) If people often tried to stone Christ Himself and called Him a blasphemer when He spoke of His equality with the Father, they could hardly be expected to accept this teaching from fishermen, especially with the Cross coming before it. But why speak of the Jews, when even the disciples were often troubled and stumbled on hearing the higher teachings? That is also why He told them, “I have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” (John xvi. 12.) If those who had been with Him so long, admitted to so many secrets, and seen so many wonders could not bear them, how could people only just pulled away from altars, idols, sacrifices, cats, and crocodiles (for such did the Gentiles worship), and the rest of their evil ways, be expected to accept the higher teachings all at once? Especially the Jews, who every day of their lives heard the words constantly ringing in their ears, “The Lord your God is one Lord, and besides Him there is no other.” (Deut. vi. 4.) They had also seen Him hanging nailed to the Cross—indeed, had themselves crucified and buried Him—and had not even seen Him risen. When told that this very person was God and equal with the Father, how could they, of all people, react with anything but shock and revulsion? So the Apostles lead them forward gently, little by little, with great consideration and patience, adapting themselves to their limited understanding. Meanwhile they themselves enjoy the Spirit's grace more abundantly and do greater works in Christ's name than Christ Himself did, both to raise their hearers above their earthbound ideas and to confirm that Christ had risen from the dead. That, in fact, is what this Book is: a Demonstration of the Resurrection. Once this was believed, the rest would follow in due course. What I have said is the Book's main subject and entire scope. Now let us hear the Preface itself. “In my former account, Theophilus, I wrote about everything Jesus began to do and teach.” (v. 1.) Why does he remind him of the Gospel? To indicate how completely he can be trusted. At the start of the earlier work he says, “It seemed good to me too, having understood everything accurately from the very beginning, to write it for you in order.” (Luke i. 3.) Nor is he satisfied with his own testimony: he refers the whole matter to the Apostles, saying, “Just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word handed them down to us.” (Luke i. 2.) Having established his account's credibility before, he does not need to present his credentials again for this work. His disciple has already been satisfied once for all, and mentioning the earlier work reminds him that Luke can be strictly relied on for the truth. If someone has shown himself competent and trustworthy in writing about things he heard, and has also gained our confidence, he deserves our confidence still more when composing an account of what he himself saw and heard rather than what he received from others. You accepted what concerns Christ; you will accept what concerns the Apostles all the more. What, then, (it may be asked), is this merely a matter of history, with nothing to do with the Holy Spirit? Not at all. If those “who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word handed it down to us,” then what Luke says is theirs. Why did he not say, As those counted worthy of the Holy Spirit handed these things down to us, but, Those who were eyewitnesses? Because in matters of belief, learning from eyewitnesses is precisely what gives someone a claim to be believed; the other claim seems to foolish people mere show and pretension. So John too says, “I saw and testified that this is the Son of God.” (John. i. 34.) Christ speaks the same way to Nicodemus, whose understanding was slow: “We speak what we know and testify to what we have seen, and no one accepts our testimony.” (Ib. iii. 11.) Accordingly, He allowed the Apostles to base their testimony in many particulars on having seen them, saying, “You too bear witness about Me, because you have been with Me from the beginning.” (John xv. 27.) The Apostles themselves often speak similarly: “We are witnesses, and the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey Him.” (Acts 5:32.) Later, Peter, still affirming the Resurrection, said, “Since we ate and drank with Him.” (Acts x. 41.) People more readily accepted the testimony of His companions, because the idea of the Spirit was still far beyond them. So too John, speaking in his Gospel of the blood and water, said he had seen it himself. For them he made his own seeing it equivalent to the highest testimony. The Spirit's witness is more certain than sight's evidence, but unbelievers do not see it that way. That Luke shared in the Spirit is abundantly clear: from the miracles that happen even now; from the fact that ordinary people too received the Holy Spirit in those days; from Paul's testimony, “Whose praise is in the Gospel” (2 Cor. viii. 18); and from the appointment for which Luke was chosen. Having said this, the Apostle adds, “Also appointed by the Churches to travel with us with this grace administered by us.” Now notice how unassuming he is. He does not say, The former Gospel I preached, but, “In my former account I wrote,” considering Gospel too great a title for him, though this is precisely how the Apostle honors him: “Whose praise,” he says, “is in the Gospel.” But Luke modestly says, “In my former account, Theophilus, I wrote about everything Jesus began to do and teach.” Not simply “about everything,” but from beginning to end, “until the day,” he says, “He was taken up.” Yet John says it was impossible to write everything: “If it were written,” he says, “I suppose even the world itself could not contain the books written.” (John xxi. 25.) How, then, does this Evangelist say, “About everything”? He does not say “everything,” but “about everything”: that is, in summary, in broad outline, and about everything chiefly and urgently important. Then he tells us what he means by everything, adding, “Jesus began to do and teach.” He means His miracles and teaching, and more than this: he implies that His doing was also teaching. Consider the writer's kind and Apostolic feelings: for one person's sake he took the trouble to write an entire Gospel. “So that you may have,” he says, “certainty about the things you have been taught.” (Luke i. 4.) Indeed, he had heard Christ say, “It is not My Father's will that one of these little ones should perish.” (Matt. xviii. 14.) Why, then, did he not make it one book to send to one man, Theophilus, but divide it into two subjects? For clarity, and to give the brother a pause to rest. Besides, the two works have distinct subjects. Consider how Christ established His words' credibility through His deeds. He says, “Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart.” (Ib. xi. 29.) He taught people to be poor and showed it in His actions: “For the Son of Man,” He says, “has nowhere to lay His head.” (Ib. viii. 20.) Again, He commanded people to love their enemies and taught the same lesson on the Cross by praying for His crucifiers. He said, “If anyone sues you and takes your tunic, let him have your cloak too.” (Ib. v. 40.) He gave not only His clothes, but His blood. This is how He told others to teach. So Paul too said, “As you have us for an example.” (Philip. iii. 17.) Nothing is colder than a teacher whose philosophy is only words: he acts as a hypocrite rather than a teacher. So the Apostles taught first by conduct, then by words; indeed, they did not need words when their deeds spoke so loudly. It is not wrong to call Christ's Passion an action: in suffering everything, He performed that great and wonderful act by which He destroyed death and accomplished everything else He did for us. “Until the day He was taken up, after giving commandments through the Holy Spirit to the Apostles He had chosen. After giving commandments through the Spirit.” (v. 2.) That is, the words He spoke to them were spiritual, nothing human. Either that is the meaning, or that He gave them commandments by the Spirit. Notice how he still speaks of Christ in lowly terms, just as Christ had spoken of Himself: “But if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God.” (Matt. xii. 28.) For the Holy Spirit did work in that Temple. What, then, did He command? “Go, then,” He says, “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them into the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you.” (Ib. xxviii. 19, 20.) What high praise for the Apostles, to be entrusted with such a charge—the salvation of the world! Words full of the Spirit! The writer hints at this by “through the Holy Spirit” (and, “the words I spoke to you,” says the Lord, “are Spirit”) (John vi. 63). He thus leads the hearer to want to learn what the commands were and establishes the Apostles' authority, since they are about to speak the Spirit's words and Christ's commandments. “After giving commandments,” he says, “He was taken up.” He does not say, Ascended; he still speaks of Him as a man. It appears, then, that He also taught the Disciples after His resurrection, but no one has given us a fully detailed account of that period. John, like the present writer, dwells on it at greater length than the others, but no one has clearly related everything (for they hastened to something else). Yet we have learned these things through the Apostles: what they heard, they told. “To whom He also showed Himself alive.” After speaking first of the Ascension, he returns to the Resurrection. You have been told He “was taken up”; to keep you from supposing that others took Him up, he adds, “To whom He showed Himself alive.” If He showed Himself in the greater matter, surely He did so in the lesser. Do you see how casually and unobtrusively he drops the seeds of these great teachings along the way? “Being seen by them during forty days.” He was no longer always with them as before the Resurrection. The writer does not say “forty days,” but “during forty days.” He came and disappeared again, leading them to higher conceptions and no longer allowing them to feel toward Him as they had before. He effectively secured both aims: that they should believe His Resurrection and afterward always understand Him to be greater than man. These were two opposite things: belief in His Resurrection required many things of a human kind, while the other aim required just the reverse. Nevertheless, both were accomplished, each at the right time. Why did He appear only to the Apostles, rather than to everyone? Because to the many He would have seemed a mere apparition, since they did not understand the mystery's secret. Even the disciples at first disbelieved and were troubled, needing the evidence of touching Him with their hands and eating with Him. How, then, would the crowd probably have fared? So through the miracles [wrought by the Apostles] He makes the evidence of His Resurrection unmistakable. Not only the people of that time—which is what visible proof would have secured—but everyone afterward would be certain that He had risen. On this basis we too argue with unbelievers. If He did not rise again but remains dead, how did the Apostles perform miracles in His name? But they did not perform miracles, you say? Then how was our religion (ἔθνος) established? They certainly cannot challenge or deny what we see with our own eyes. So by saying no miracles happened, they stab themselves more deeply. This would be the greatest miracle: that without any miracles the whole world eagerly let itself be caught in the nets of twelve poor, uneducated men. The fishermen prevailed neither by money, nor by clever speech, nor by anything of that kind. Objectors must therefore admit, even against their will, that these men had Divine power: no human strength could possibly accomplish such results. This is why He remained on earth forty days, giving them throughout that time firm evidence of seeing Him in His own Person, so that they would not suppose what they saw was a phantom. Not satisfied with this, He added the evidence of eating at their table. To indicate this, the writer adds, “And being at table with them, He commanded.” (v. 4.) The Apostles themselves always present this as an unfailing sign of the Resurrection, as when they say, “Who ate and drank with Him.” (Acts x. 41.) What did He do while appearing to them during those forty days? He spoke with them, the writer says, “about the kingdom of God.” (v. 3.) The disciples had been distressed and troubled by what had already happened and were about to go out to face great difficulties. His words about the future restored them. “He commanded them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the Father's promise.” (v. 4.) First He led them, frightened and trembling, out to Galilee, so that they could listen to Him in safety. After they had heard and spent forty days with Him, “He commanded them not to leave Jerusalem.” Why? When soldiers are about to charge a crowd, no one lets them go out before they are armed; horses are not allowed to leave the starting gates before they have their charioteer. So Christ did not let these men enter the field before the Spirit descended, so that the many could not easily defeat and capture them. This was not the only reason: many people in Jerusalem were also to believe. Again, to prevent people from saying that they had left their acquaintances to show off among strangers, they demonstrate His Resurrection among the very men who put Christ to death, who crucified and buried Him, in the very city where the wicked deed took place. This silenced all objectors from elsewhere. When even His crucifiers appeared as believers, this clearly proved both the crucifixion and the deed's wickedness, and provided powerful evidence of the Resurrection. Moreover, the Apostles might say, How can we live among wicked, bloodthirsty men, so many of them, so few and insignificant of us? Notice how He removes their fear and distress with these words: “But wait for the Father's promise, which you have heard from Me.” (v. 4.) When had they heard it, you will ask? When He said, “It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Comforter will not come to you.” (John xvi. 7.) Again, “I will ask the Father, and He will send you another Comforter to remain with you.” (ib. xiv. 16.) Why did the Holy Spirit come neither while Christ was present nor immediately after His departure? Christ ascended on the fortieth day, but the Spirit descended when “the day of Pentecost,” the fiftieth, “had fully come.” (Acts ii. 1.) And if the Spirit had not yet come, how could He say, “Receive the Holy Spirit”? (John xx. 22.) To make them capable and fit to receive Him. If Daniel fainted at the sight of an Angel (Dan. viii. 17), much more would these men when about to receive so great a grace. Either we must say this, or that Christ spoke of what was coming as though it had already come, as when He said, “Tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the devil's power.” (Luke x. 19.) But why had the Holy Spirit not yet come? They first needed to develop a deep longing for it, and then receive the grace. This is why Christ Himself departed and the Spirit then descended. Had Christ still been there, they would not have awaited the Spirit as eagerly as they did. For this reason too, He did not come immediately after Christ's Ascension, but eight or nine days later. It is the same with us: our longing for God rises highest when we are in need. So John chose to send his disciples to Christ during his own imprisonment, when they were likely to feel their need of Jesus. Besides, our nature needed to be seen in heaven and reconciliation completed; then the Spirit would come, and the joy would be unmixed. If the Spirit had already come, and Christ then departed while the Spirit remained, the consolation would not have been so great. They clung to Christ and could not bear to part with Him. So, to comfort them, He said, “It is to your advantage that I go away.” (John xvi. 7.) This is also why He waits those intervening days: so that they might first become downcast for a while, feel their need of Him, as I said, and then reap full and unmixed delight. If the Spirit were inferior to the Son, the consolation would have been inadequate. How could He have said, “It is to your advantage”? This is why the greater teachings were reserved for the Spirit: so that the disciples would not imagine Him inferior. Consider too how promising to grant them the Spirit made it necessary for them to stay in Jerusalem. So that they would not flee again after His Ascension, He keeps them in that place through this expectation, as with a bond. Having said, “Wait for the Father's promise, which you have heard from Me,” He adds, “John indeed baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” (v. 4, 5.) Now He plainly shows them the difference between Himself and John, unlike His earlier obscure hints. He had spoken very obscurely when He said, “Yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he”; now He says plainly, “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” (Matt. xi. 11.) He no longer uses the testimony, but simply refers to John himself, reminding the disciples of his words and showing them that they have now become greater than John, since they too are to baptize with the Spirit. Again, He did not say, I baptize you with the Holy Spirit, but, “You will be baptized,” teaching us humility. John's testimony had made it clear enough that Christ Himself would baptize: “He is the One who will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” (Luke iii. 16.) That is why He mentioned John too. The Gospels, then, tell the history of what Christ did and said; Acts tells what that “other Comforter” said and did. The Spirit did many things in the Gospels too, just as Christ still works in people here in Acts as He did in the Gospels. Only, then the Spirit worked through the Temple, now through the Apostles; then He came into the Virgin's womb and formed the Temple, now into Apostolic souls; then in the likeness of a dove, now in the likeness of fire. Why? There He showed the Lord's gentleness; here He also shows His vengeance, now reminding them of judgment. When forgiveness was needed, great gentleness was needed. But now we have received the gift, and it is time for judgment and examination. Why does Christ say, “You will be baptized,” when there was actually no water in the upper room? Because the more essential part of Baptism is the Spirit, through Whom the water has its effect. In the same way our Lord is called anointed, not because He was ever anointed with oil, but because He received the Spirit. Besides, we do find them receiving a baptism with water [and a baptism with the Spirit], at different times. For us both happen in one act; then they were separate. They were first baptized by John: if prostitutes and tax collectors went to that baptism, much more would those who were afterward to be baptized by the Holy Spirit. Then, so that the Apostles would not say He was always holding it out to them in promises (John xiv. 15, 16)—for Christ had already spoken much to them about the Spirit, so that they would not imagine It an impersonal Energy or Operation (ἐνέργειαν ἀνυπόστατον)—to prevent them from saying this, He adds, “Not many days from now.” He did not explain when, so that they would always keep watch. He told them it would happen soon, so that they would not lose heart, but withheld the exact time so that they would always be vigilant. He reassures them not only by the short time, but also by saying, “The promise you have heard from Me.” This, He says, is not the only time I have told you: I have already promised what I will certainly perform. Is it any wonder, then, that He does not name the day of the final consummation, when He chose not to reveal even this day so close at hand? Rightly so: to keep them always awake, expectant, and earnestly attentive. For it cannot, it cannot be that anyone benefits from grace without keeping watch. Do you not see what Elijah tells his disciple? “If you see me when I am taken up” (2 Kings ii. 10), what you ask will be done for you. Christ too always used to ask those who came to Him, “Do you believe?” If we are not bound and committed to the gift, we do not greatly feel its benefit. So too with Paul: grace did not come to him immediately, but three days passed in which he was blind, being purified and prepared through fear. Those who dye cloth purple first treat it with other ingredients, so that its brilliant color will not fade. So here God first ensures that the soul is thoroughly earnest, then pours out His grace. This too is why He did not send the Spirit immediately, but on the fiftieth day. If someone asks why we too do not baptize at Pentecost, we may answer that grace is the same now as then, but the mind is more uplifted now through preparation by fasting. The Pentecost season also offers a plausible reason. What is it? Our fathers considered Baptism exactly the right restraint on evil desire, and a powerful lesson in self-control even in a season of delights. As though we were feasting with Christ Himself and sharing His table, let us do nothing aimlessly, but spend our time in fasting, prayer, and great self-control. Someone expecting to enter public office prepares all his life, spends his money and time to gain some honor, and submits to endless trouble. What, then, do we deserve, approaching the kingdom of heaven so carelessly, showing no earnestness before receiving and again being negligent afterward? Indeed, we are negligent afterward precisely because we did not keep watch beforehand. So many people, immediately after receiving, have returned to their former vomit, become more wicked, and brought harsher punishment upon themselves. Freed from their former sins, they have provoked the Judge more grievously by failing to learn self-control even after being delivered from so great a disease. What Christ threatened the paralyzed man has happened to them: “Look, you have been made well. Sin no more, so that nothing worse happens to you.” (John v. 14.) He also predicted of the Jews that “the last state will be worse than the first.” (Matt. xii. 45.) To show that their ingratitude would bring the worst evils on them, He said, “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have had sin.” (John xv. 22.) The guilt of sins committed after these benefits is doubled and quadrupled, because after the honor given us, we prove ungrateful and wicked. The washing of Baptism does nothing to secure a milder punishment for us. Consider: a man has incurred terrible sins through murder, adultery, or another crime. Baptism forgave them. No sin or impiety can resist or fail to give way to this gift, for the Grace is Divine. The man commits adultery and murder again. His former adultery is indeed wiped away, his murder forgiven, and neither is charged against him again, “for God's gifts and calling are irrevocable.” (Rom. xi. 29.) But for what he committed after Baptism, he suffers punishment as great as if his former sins and many worse ones were charged against him again. The guilt is no longer simply equal: it is doubled and tripled. Look: to prove that the penalty for these sins is greater, hear Paul: “Someone who rejected Moses' law died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you suppose, will someone deserve who has trampled the Son of God underfoot, counted the covenant's blood unholy, and insulted the Spirit of grace?” (Heb. x. 28, 29.) Perhaps we have now frightened many people away from receiving baptism. That was not our intention in speaking, but that once they receive it they should continue in self-control and great moderation. But I am afraid, someone says. If you were afraid, you would have received it and guarded it. No, he says, that is precisely why I do not receive it: I am frightened. Are you not afraid to leave this life like that? God is merciful, he says. Receive baptism, then, because He is merciful and ready to help. But when earnestness is needed, you do not appeal to His mercy: you think of it only when it suits you. Yet that was the time to turn to God's mercy; we are most certain to obtain it when we do our part. Someone who entrusts everything to God and sins after baptism, as human beings are likely to do, then repents, will obtain mercy. But someone who plays games with God's mercy and leaves this life without a share in that grace will receive punishment with no possible defense. But what if he departs, you ask, after being granted the grace? He will again depart empty of good works. It is impossible—yes, in my opinion impossible—that someone who delayed baptism on such hopes should have accomplished anything noble and good. Why harbor this fear and rely on the uncertain chance of the future? Why not turn the fear into effort and earnestness, and become great and admirable? Which is better: to be afraid or to work? Suppose someone put you in a tottering house with nothing to do, saying, Expect the rotten roof to fall on your head. Perhaps it will fall, perhaps not; but if you would rather it did not, work and live in the safer room. Which would you choose: idleness with fear, or work with confidence? Act the same way now. The uncertain future is like a rotten house always threatening to fall; this work, though demanding, secures safety. God forbid that we should fall into such distress as to sin after baptism. Yet even if something like that happens, God is merciful and has given us many ways to obtain forgiveness afterward too. But just as people who sin after baptism are punished more severely than Catechumens for that reason, those who know repentance offers medicines yet refuse to use them will undergo still harsher punishment. The more God's mercy expands, the more the punishment increases if we fail to benefit properly from it. What are you saying, human being? Full of such terrible evils and abandoned, you suddenly became a friend and were raised to the highest honor, not through your own efforts, but through God's gift. You returned to your former misconduct; though you deserved severe punishment, God nevertheless did not turn away, but gave you countless opportunities for salvation, through which you could become a friend again. Yet after all this you are unwilling to work. What forgiveness can you deserve now? Will the pagans not rightly ridicule you as a worthless drone? If your teaching has power, they say, why are so many people uninitiated? If the mysteries are excellent and desirable, let no one receive baptism at his last breath. That is the time for making wills, not giving mysteries; mysteries call for a healthy mind and a sound soul. Someone would not choose to make his will in that condition; if he does, he opens the way to later litigation. (That is why people making a will begin with these words: “Alive, in my senses, and in health, I make this disposal of my property.”) How, then, can someone no longer in control of his senses properly undergo preparation for the sacred mysteries? In earthly affairs, worldly laws would not let someone of unsound mind make a will, even though he would be laying down the law about his own property. How, when being instructed about the kingdom of heaven and that world's indescribable riches, can you learn everything clearly, very likely out of your senses with the force of your illness? And when will you say those words to Christ, in the act of being buried with Him, if you are about to depart? We must show our good will toward Him in both deeds and words. (Rom. vi. 4.) What you are doing is just like wanting to enlist as a soldier when the war is about to end, or strip for the arena's contest just as the spectators have got up from their seats. You receive your weapons not to leave at once, but to be equipped to raise a trophy over the enemy. Let no one think this subject is out of season because it is not Lent. That is precisely what troubles me: you look for a fixed time in these matters. That Eunuch, though a barbarian and traveling, right on the highway, did not seek a fixed time. (Acts viii. 27.) Nor did the jailer, though surrounded by prisoners, with a teacher before him who was flogged, chained, and still to remain in his custody. (ib. xvi. 29.) Yet here, neither in prison nor on a journey, many put off baptism until their last breath. If you still question whether Christ is God, stand away from the Church. Do not be here even as a hearer of the Divine Word or one of the catechumens. But if you are certain and know this truth clearly, why delay? Why draw back and hesitate? For fear of sinning, you say. Do you not fear the worse thing: leaving for the next world with so heavy a burden? Failing to obtain a grace set before you and failing in the attempt to live rightly are not equally excusable. If you are asked, Why did you not come for it? what will you answer? In the other case you can appeal to the burden of your passions and the difficulty of a virtuous life; here, nothing of the kind. Here is grace freely giving liberty. But you fear sinning? Speak that way after Baptism: then hold this fear so that you keep the liberty you have received, not now to prevent yourself from receiving such a gift. As it is, you are cautious before baptism and negligent afterward. But you are waiting for Lent. Why? Does that season have an advantage? It was not at Passover that the Apostles received the grace, but at another season; then three thousand (Luke says,) and five thousand were baptized (ch. ii. 41; iv. 4, and ch. x.), and Cornelius too. Let us not wait for a fixed time, or our hesitation and delay may leave us departing empty, without such great gifts. Can you imagine my anguish when I hear that someone has been taken away unbaptized, as I reflect on that life's unbearable punishments and inexorable sentence? Again, how I grieve to see others approaching their last breath without coming to their right mind even then. This also produces scenes utterly unworthy of the gift. There should be joy, dancing, rejoicing, and garlands when someone is baptized. Instead, the sick man's wife has scarcely heard that the physician has ordered it before grief overwhelms her as if it were a terrible calamity. She raises the loudest lamentation; throughout the house there is only crying and wailing, as when condemned criminals are led to their sentence. The sick man himself grieves more deeply; if he recovers, he is upset as though some great harm had been done to him. Unprepared for a virtuous life, he has no heart for the struggles ahead and shrinks from thinking of them. Do you see the devil's schemes, the shame and ridicule he devises? Let us free ourselves of this disgrace; let us live as Christ commanded. He gave us Baptism not to receive and depart, but to show its fruits afterward in life. How can you tell someone departing and broken down, Bear fruit? Have you not heard that “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace”? (Gal. v. 22.) How, then, does precisely the opposite happen here? The wife stands mourning when she should rejoice; the children weep when they should share the joy; the sick man himself lies in darkness, surrounded by noise and uproar, when he should be celebrating a great festival. He is deeply downcast at the thought of leaving his children orphans, his wife a widow, his house deserted. Tell me, is this a state for approaching mysteries? Is this a state for approaching the sacred table? Can such scenes be tolerated? If the Emperor sends letters releasing prisoners from the jails, there is joy and gladness. God sends the Holy Spirit down from Heaven to forgive not money owed, but a whole mass of sins, and you all wail and lament? How utterly inappropriate! Not to mention that sometimes water has been poured on the dead and holy mysteries thrown on the ground. We are not to blame for this, but people who are so perverse. I urge you, then, leave everything, turn, and approach Baptism eagerly. By showing great earnestness now, may we gain confidence for what is to come. May we all attain it through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.