Homilies on Romans, Homily 11

“For if we have been planted together in the likeness of His death, we will also be in the likeness of His resurrection.” I repeat here what I had occasion to point out before: he continually turns to exhortation without dividing his discussion into two parts, as he does in the other Epistles, setting aside the first part for doctrine and the last for moral instruction. Here he does not do that, but weaves moral instruction into his subject throughout, so that it will be readily accepted. Here, then, he says that there are two ways of putting to death, and two deaths: Christ accomplishes one in Baptism, and it is our duty to accomplish the other afterward through earnest effort. For the burial of our former sins came from His gift. But remaining dead to sin after baptism must come from our own earnest effort, however much we find God giving us abundant help here too. For Baptism has the power not only to wipe away our former transgressions; it also protects us against later ones. Just as your contribution in the case of your former sins was faith, so that they could be wiped away, so with those that come afterward, show that your aims have changed, so that you do not defile yourself again. This and similar things are what he urges on you when he says, “for if we have been planted together in the likeness of His Death, we will also be in the likeness of His Resurrection.” Do you see how he stirs his listener by leading him straight to his Master and taking great care to show the close likeness? This is why he does not say “in death,” which you might dispute, but “in the likeness of His Death.” For our very being has not died, but the man of sins has—that is, wickedness. And he does not say, “for if we have been” participants in “the likeness of His Death.” What does he say? “If we have been planted together.” By mentioning planting, he hints at the fruit it produces for us. For just as His Body, buried in the earth, produced the salvation of the world as its fruit, so ours too, buried in baptism, bore righteousness, sanctification, adoption, and countless blessings as its fruit. And it will also bear the gift of the resurrection in the future. Since, then, we were buried in water and He in earth, and we with respect to sin and He with respect to His Body, he did not say, “we were planted together in His Death,” but “in the likeness of His Death.” For both are deaths, but what dies is not the same. If, then, he says, “we have been planted together in His Death, we will be in that of His Resurrection,” he is speaking here of the Resurrection that (Gr. be of His Resurrection) is to come. For when he spoke earlier about the Death and said, “Do you not know, brothers, that as many of us as were baptized into Christ were baptized into His Death?” he had made no clear statement about the Resurrection, but only about the way of life after baptism, telling people to walk in newness of life. So here he returns to the same subject and goes on to foretell that Resurrection clearly for us. And so that you may know that he is speaking about the other resurrection, rather than the one that results from baptism, after saying, “for if we were planted together in the likeness of His Death,” he does not say that we will be in the likeness of His Resurrection, but that we will belong to the Resurrection. For you might say, How, if we did not die as He died, are we to rise as He rose? To forestall this, when he mentioned the Death, he did not say, “planted together in the Death,” but “in the likeness of His Death.” But when he mentioned the Resurrection, he did not say, “in the likeness of the Resurrection,” but that we will be “of the Resurrection” itself. And he does not say, We have become, but, We will be, again clearly using this word to mean the Resurrection that has not yet taken place but will take place in the future. Then, to make what he says credible, he points out another Resurrection that takes place here before that one, so that what is present may lead you to believe in what is to come as well. For after saying, “we will be planted together in the Resurrection,” he adds, Ver. 6. “Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Him, so that the body of sin might be destroyed.” In this way he brings together both the cause and the proof of the Resurrection to come. And he does not say, is crucified, but, is crucified with Him, thus bringing baptism close to the Cross. This was also why he said above, “We have been planted together in the likeness of His Death so that the body of sin might be destroyed,” giving that name to all wickedness, rather than to this body of ours. For just as he calls the whole of wickedness the old man, so he calls wickedness made up of the different parts of wrongdoing the body of that man. And to see that what I am saying is no mere guess, listen to Paul's own explanation of this very point in what follows. For after saying, “so that the body of sin might be destroyed,” he adds, “so that from now on we should not serve sin.” For the way I want it to be dead is not for you to be destroyed and die, but for you to stop sinning. As he goes on, he makes this still clearer. Ver. 7. “For whoever is dead,” he says, “is freed (Gr. justified) from sin.” He says this about everyone: just as someone who is dead is from then on free from sinning, lying there as a dead body, so someone who has come up from baptism, having died there once for all, must remain forever dead to sin. If, then, you have died in baptism, remain dead, for anyone who dies can no longer sin. But if you sin, you spoil God's gift. After requiring heroism (Gr. philosophy) of this degree from us, he immediately introduces the crown as well, in these words. Ver. 8. “Now if we are dead with Christ.” Indeed, even before the crown, sharing with our Master is itself the greater crown. But he says, I give you still another reward. What kind of reward? Eternal life. For “we believe,” he says, “that we will also live with Him.” And how is this clear? Ver. 9. “That Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more.” Notice again his fearlessness and how he proves his point from what seems to oppose it. Since some were likely to be troubled by the Cross and the Death, he shows that this very thing is a reason for confidence from now on. For do not suppose, he says, that because He once died, He is mortal. This is the very reason He is immortal. For His death has been the death of death, and because He did die, He therefore does not die. For even that death Ver. 10. “He died to sin.” What does “to sin” mean? It means that He was not subject even to that one death, but died for our sin, to destroy it and cut away its sinews and all its power. Do you see how he frightens them? For if He does not die again, then there is no second washing; so keep yourself from every inclination to sin. For he says all this to oppose the claims, “let us do evil so that good may come. Let us remain in sin so that grace may abound.” He sets all this out to uproot that idea completely. But “He lives, He lives to God,” he says—that is, unchangeably, so that death no longer has any dominion over Him. For if He did not die that earlier death because He was liable to it, but only for the sin of others, much less will He die again now that He has taken that sin away. He says this in the Epistle to the Hebrews too: “But now once,” he says, “at the end of the world He has appeared to put away sin by the Sacrifice of Himself. And as people are appointed to die once, and after that comes judgment, so Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many, and to those who look for Him He will appear a second time without sin for salvation.” (Heb. ix. 26–28.) And he points out both the power of the life lived according to God and the strength of sin. As for the life lived according to God, he shows that Christ will die no more. As for sin, if it brought about the death even of the Sinless, how can it fail to ruin those subject to it? And then, since he has been discussing His life, to keep anyone from saying, What does what you have been saying have to do with us? he adds, Ver. 11. “Likewise, consider yourselves dead indeed to sin, but alive to God.” He rightly says, “consider,” because what he is speaking about cannot yet be set before our eyes. And what are we to consider? someone may ask. That we “are dead to sin, but alive to God. In Jesus Christ our Lord.” For whoever lives this way will take hold of every virtue, having Jesus Himself as his ally. That is what “in Christ” means. For if He raised them when they were dead, He will be much more able to keep them alive now that they live. Ver. 12. “Therefore, do not let sin reign in your mortal body, so that you obey it in its lusts.” He does not say, Do not let the flesh live or act, but, “do not let sin reign,” for He came to put our free choice right, rather than to destroy our nature. Then, to show that we willingly submit to wickedness, rather than being held down by any force or necessity, he does not say, Do not let it tyrannize, a word that would imply compulsion, but, Do not let it reign. For it is absurd for people being led to the kingdom of heaven to have sin as their empress, and for those called to reign with Christ to choose to be sin's captives. It is as if someone threw the crown off his head and chose to become the slave of a frenzied woman who came begging, dressed in rags. Next, since overcoming sin was a difficult task, see how he shows that it is actually easy, and eases the labor by saying, “in your mortal body.” For this shows that the struggles last only a short time and will soon come to an end. At the same time, he reminds us of our former misery and the root of death, since it was through sin that the body became mortal, contrary even to its original condition. Yet it is possible even for someone with a mortal body not to sin. Do you see the abundance of Christ's grace? For Adam fell even though he did not yet have a mortal body. But you, who have received a body subject even to death, can be crowned. How, then, does “sin reign?” he asks. Through your own carelessness, rather than any power of its own. So after saying, “do not let it reign,” he also points out how it reigns, going on to say, “so that you obey it in its lusts.” For it is no honor to give it (i.e. to the body) everything it wants. On the contrary, it is utter slavery and the height of dishonor. For when it does whatever it wants, it loses all its freedom; but when it is restrained, it best maintains its proper place. Ver. 13. “Do not offer your members to sin as instruments of unrighteousness…but as instruments of righteousness.” The body, then, is neutral between vice and virtue, just as instruments (or arms) are. Either result comes from the person who uses it. It is as if a soldier fighting for his country and a robber arming himself against its inhabitants had the same defensive weapons. For the blame falls on those who use the armor for an evil purpose, rather than on the armor itself. The same can be said of the flesh, which becomes one thing or the other because of the mind's decision, rather than its own nature. For if the eye pries into another person's beauty, it becomes an instrument of wickedness through the fault of the thought that commands it, rather than through any action of its own (for the eye's function is simply to see, rather than to see wrongly). But if you restrain it, it becomes an instrument of righteousness. The same is true of the tongue, the hands, and all the other members. And he rightly calls sin unrighteousness. For by sinning, a person wrongs either himself or his neighbor—or rather, himself more than his neighbor. Having led us away from wickedness, then, he leads us to virtue in these words: “But offer yourselves to God as people alive from the dead.” See how his very words urge them on, naming “sin” on one side and “God” on the other. For by showing the difference between the rulers, he leaves the soldier who abandons God and wants to serve under sin's dominion without any excuse. But he establishes this not only in this way, but also through what follows, by saying, “as alive from the dead.” These words show both the misery of their former condition and the greatness of God's gift. For consider, he says, what you were and what you have become. What were you? Dead, and ruined by a destruction that could not be repaired from any source. For there was no one who had the power to help you. And what have you, once dead, become? Alive with immortal life. And through whom? Through the all-powerful God. You should therefore take your place under Him with all the joyful readiness of people who have been brought to life from the dead. “And your members as instruments of righteousness.” So the body is not evil, since it can be made a weapon of righteousness. But by calling it a weapon, he makes it clear that a hard war lies ahead of us. This is why we need strong armor, a noble spirit, and a spirit familiar with the ways of this warfare; above all, we need a commander. The Commander, however, stands by, always ready to help us and remaining unconquerable, and He has also supplied us with strong weapons. We also need the resolve to handle them properly, so that we may both obey our Commander and take the field for our country. Having given us this vigorous exhortation and reminded us of weapons, battle, and wars, see how he again encourages the soldier and strengthens his willingness. Ver. 14. “For sin will no longer have dominion over you; for you are not under the Law, but under grace.” If sin no longer has dominion over us, why does he give them such a strong command in the words, “Do not let sin reign in your mortal body,” and, “do not offer your members to sin as instruments of unrighteousness?” What, then, does this statement mean? In this statement he is planting a seed that he intends to develop later and cultivate into a powerful argument. What is the statement? This: before Christ's coming, our body was easy prey for sin's attacks. For after death came, a great swarm of passions entered too. This is why it was not nimble enough to run the race of virtue. For there was no Spirit present to help, nor any powerful baptism to put sin to death. (John vii. 39.) Instead, like a horse (Plato Phædr. §74) that does not respond to the reins, it ran, but stumbled often. Meanwhile, the Law announced what should and should not be done, but gave those running the race nothing beyond verbal encouragement. But after Christ came, the effort became easier, and so a more distant goal (μείζονα τὰ σκάμματα) was set for us, because the help given us was greater. This is also why Christ says, “Unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matt. v. 20.) He explains this more clearly later. For now, he briefly alludes to it here to show that unless we stoop very low and submit to sin, it will not overcome us. For we are encouraged not only by the Law, but also by grace, which forgave our former sins and protects us against future ones. For the Law promised them crowns after their labors, but this (i.e. grace) crowned them first and then led them into the contest. Now it seems to me that he is comparing Baptism with the Law here, rather than speaking of a believer's entire life. He says this in another passage too: “The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” (2 Cor. iii. 6.) For the Law convicts us of transgression, but grace removes transgression. Just as the former establishes sin by convicting us, so the latter, by forgiving us, does not let us remain under sin. So you are freed from this slavery in two ways: both by no longer being under the Law and by enjoying grace. After giving his listener a moment to breathe with these words, he again provides him with protection by introducing an exhortation in reply to an objection, saying the following. Ver. 15. “What then? Should we sin because we are not under the Law, but under grace? God forbid.” He first appealed solemnly to God to reject the idea because it was absurd. Then he moves on to exhortation and shows how easy the struggle is, in the following words. Ver. 16. “Do you not know that when you offer yourselves to someone as servants to obey him, you are the servants of the one you obey, whether of sin leading to death, or of obedience leading to righteousness?” I am not yet speaking, he means, of hell or that great (ms. Bodl. long) punishment, but of the shame in this world when you become slaves—and willing slaves at that, and slaves of sin—with wages such as a second death. For if before baptism sin brought about the body's death, and the wound required such extensive treatment that the Lord of all came down to die and so put an end to the evil, what might it not do if, after so great a gift and so great a freedom, it seizes you again while you willingly bow beneath it? Do not, then, run into such a pit or willingly surrender yourself. For in wars, soldiers are often handed over even against their will. But here, unless you desert of your own accord, no one will overcome you. Having tried to shame them through their sense of duty, he also alarms them with the rewards, setting before them the wages of both: righteousness and death—a death far worse than the former one. For if Christ will die no more, who will do away with death? No one! We must then be punished and suffer vengeance forever. For in this case there is no death perceptible to the senses still to come, as there was before, to give the body rest and separate it from the soul. “For the last enemy, death, is destroyed” (1 Cor. xv. 26), so the punishment will be deathless. But not for those who obey: righteousness and the blessings that spring from it will be their rewards. Ver. 17. “But thanks be to God that you were the servants of sin, but you have obeyed from the heart that form of doctrine which was delivered to you.” (Lit. “into which ye were delivered.”) After shaming them by their slavery, alarming them with the rewards, and exhorting them in this way, he sets them right again by reminding them of the benefits they have received. Through these, he shows that the evils from which they were freed were great, that their freedom did not come through any efforts of their own, and that things would be more manageable from then on. Just as someone who has rescued a captive from a cruel tyrant and advises him not to run back to him reminds him of his terrible slavery, so Paul sets the evils now past most forcefully before us by giving thanks to God. For no human power could free us from all those evils, but “thanks be to God,” who was willing and able to do such great things. And he rightly says, “You have obeyed from the heart.” You were neither forced nor pressured, but came over of your own accord, with a willing mind. This is like praising and rebuking someone at the same time. For after coming willingly, under no compulsion, what allowance can you claim, or what excuse can you make, if you run back to your former condition? Next, so that you may learn that it came not only from your own willingness, but also entirely from God's grace, after saying, “You have obeyed from the heart,” he adds, “that form of doctrine which was delivered to you.” For obedience from the heart shows free will, while being delivered hints at God's help. But what is the form of doctrine? It is living rightly, in keeping with the best way of life. Ver. 18. “Having then been freed from sin, you became the servants of righteousness.” He points out two gifts of God here: “freeing them from sin” and also “making them servants of righteousness,” which is better than any freedom. For God has acted like someone who takes an orphan who has been carried away by savages into their own country, not only frees him from captivity, but also places him under a kind father and raises him to very great dignity. This is what has happened to us. For He not only freed us from our old evils, but even led us to the life of angels and opened the way for us to the best way of life, placing us in the safekeeping of righteousness, killing our former evils, putting the old man to death, and leading us to an immortal life. Let us, then, continue living this life, for many who seem to breathe and walk around are in a more miserable condition than the dead. For there are different kinds of deadness. One is bodily death, by which Abraham was dead, and yet was not dead. For “God,” He says, “is not a God of the dead, but of the living.” (Matt. xxii. 32.) Another is the soul's deadness, which Christ refers to when He says, “Let the dead bury their dead.” (ib. viii. 22.) Another is even praiseworthy, brought about by religion (φιλοσοφίας), of which Paul says, “Put to death your members that are on the earth.” (Col. iii. 5.) Another, which is the cause even of this one, takes place in baptism. “For our old man,” he says, “has been crucified” (ver. 6), that is, has been put to death. Since we know this, let us flee the deadness by which we die even while alive. And let us not fear the one that comes with ordinary death. But let us choose and eagerly pursue the other two: one is blessed, having been given by God; the other is praiseworthy (cf. Ar. Eth. i. 12), accomplished by ourselves together with God. Of these two, David pronounces one blessed when he says, “Blessed are those whose iniquities are forgiven” (Ps. xxxii. 1); and Paul admires the other when he writes to the Galatians, “Those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh.” (Gal. v. 24.) But of the other pair, Christ declares one easy to disregard when He says, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul,” and the other terrifying: “Fear,” He says, “Him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.” (Matt. x. 28.) So let us flee this one and choose the deadness pronounced blessed and admirable, so that we may escape one of the other two and not fear the other. For seeing the sun and eating and drinking do us no good at all unless we also live a life of good words. For what advantage, tell me, would a king have if he were dressed in purple and armed, but had not a single subject and was exposed to anyone who wanted to attack and insult him? In the same way, a Christian will gain no advantage from having faith and the gift of baptism while remaining open to all the passions. In that case, his disgrace and shame will be greater. For someone wearing the crown and purple gains so little honor from that clothing that he even disgraces it by his own shame. Likewise, a believer who leads a corrupt life gains no respect from being a believer, but becomes all the more an object of scorn. “For as many,” it says, “as sinned without law will also perish without law; and as many as have sinned under the law will be judged by the law.” (Rom. ii. 12). And in the Epistle to the Hebrews he says, “Anyone who rejected Moses' law died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much worse a punishment, do you suppose, will someone deserve who has trampled the Son of God underfoot?” (Heb. x. 28, 29.) And with good reason. For I placed, He might say, all the passions under your control through baptism. How, then, have you disgraced so great a gift and become something other than what you should be? I killed and buried your former transgressions like worms—how have you bred others? For sins are worse than worms: worms harm the body, but sins harm the soul, and sins produce the more offensive stench. Yet we do not notice it, and so we make no effort to clear them out. In the same way, a drunkard does not know how disgusting stale wine is, while someone who is not drunk perceives it clearly. So it is with sins: someone who lives soberly thoroughly recognizes that other filth and stain. But someone who gives himself over to wickedness, like a person made drowsy by drunkenness, does not even know that he is sick. This is the most terrible part of vice: it does not even let those who fall into it see the greatness of their own ruin. Instead, as they lie in the mire, they think they are enjoying perfume. And so they cannot even free themselves. Though full of worms, they rejoice in them like people priding themselves on precious stones. This is why they do not even want to kill them, but instead feed them and multiply them within themselves, until these send them on to the worms of the world to come. For these worms provide for those, and do more than provide: they are even the parents of those that never die, as it says, “their worm will not die.” (Mark ix. 44.) These kindle the hell that never goes out. To keep this from happening, then, let us remove this fountain of evil, put out the furnace, and pull up the root of wickedness from below. For you will do no good by cutting off the tree above if the root remains below and sends up fresh shoots of the same kind again. What, then, is the root of these evils? Learn from the good farmer (i.e. St. Paul 1 Cor. iii. 6–9), who knows these things precisely, tends the spiritual vine, and cultivates the whole world. What does he say is the cause of all these evils? The love of money. For the “love of money is the root of all evils.” (1 Tim. vi. 10). From this come fights, hostilities, and wars; from this, rivalries, abusive speech, suspicions, and insults; from this, murders, thefts, and the violation of tombs. Because of this, not only cities and countries, but roads, inhabited and uninhabited regions, mountains, groves, hills—in a word, every place—is filled with blood and murder. This evil has not even withdrawn from the sea, but has rampaged there too with great fury, as pirates infest it on all sides, devising a new form of robbery. Through this, the laws of nature have been overturned, the claims of kinship set aside, and the laws of piety itself broken. For slavery to money has armed these men's right hands not only against the living, but even against the departed. They make no truce with them even at death, but break open tombs and stretch out their impious hands even against dead bodies. They will not let even someone who has left life behind escape their schemes. Whatever evils you may find, whether in a house, the marketplace, the law courts, the senate, the king's palace, or any other place at all, you will find that they all spring from this. For this evil—this very evil—fills every place with blood and murder, lights the flame of hell, and makes cities as miserable as a wilderness, indeed much worse. For it is easy to guard against those who ambush the highways, since they are not always attacking. But those who imitate them in the middle of cities are much worse, because they are harder to guard against and dare to do openly what the others do in secret. They even enlist as allies the very laws made to stop their wrongdoing, and fill the cities with murders and defilements of this kind. Is it not murder, tell me, and worse than murder, to hand a poor man over to starvation, throw him into prison, and expose him not only to hunger but also to torture and countless acts of abuse? For even if you do not do these things to him yourself, you cause them to be done, and are more responsible than the officials who carry them out. A murderer plunges his sword into someone all at once, and after causing him pain for a short time, takes the torture no further. But you, who by your slander, harassment, and schemes turn light into darkness for him and make him long for death ten thousand times over—consider how many deaths you commit instead of just one! And worst of all, you plunder and grasp without poverty driving you or hunger forcing you, but so that your horse's bridle, your house's ceiling, or the capitals of your pillars may be covered with enough gold. What hell would such conduct not deserve? For the person you cast into countless calamities is a brother, someone who has shared in unspeakable blessings with you and has been so highly honored by the Lord. And you do it to decorate stones, floors, and the bodies of animals that have neither reason nor any awareness of these ornaments! Your dog is well cared for too, while a human being—or rather Christ—suffers extreme hunger for the sake of the hound and all these things I have named. What could be worse than such disorder? What more terrible than such lawlessness? What rivers of fire will be enough for such a soul? Someone made in the Image of God stands in a degrading condition because of your inhumanity, while the faces of the mules that draw your wife glitter with abundant gold, as do the leather and wood that make up her canopy. And if a seat or footstool is to be made, it is all gold and silver. But the member of Christ, for whom He also came here from Heaven and shed His precious Blood, lacks even the food he needs because of your greed. Couches are covered with silver on every side, while the bodies of the saints lack even necessary clothing. To you, Christ is less precious than everything else: servants, mules, couch, chair, or footstool. I pass over furnishings put to even lower uses than these, leaving you to recognize them for yourselves. But if you are shocked to hear this, stop doing it, and then these words will not hurt you. Stop, and give up this madness. For such eagerness over these things is plain madness. So let us let go of them and look up toward Heaven, late as it is. Let us remember the coming Day, think of that terrifying court, the detailed accounting, and the judgment that cannot be bought. Let us consider that God, who sees all this, sends no lightning from Heaven, even though what is being done deserves more than thunderbolts. Yet He neither does this, nor unleashes the sea upon us, nor splits the earth in two. He does not extinguish the sun or hurl the sky with its stars down on us. He moves nothing from its place, but allows everything to keep its course and the whole creation to serve us. As we ponder all this, let us stand in awe of the greatness of His love for humanity and return to the noble origin that belongs to us. For at present we are certainly no better off than creatures without reason, but much worse. For they love their own kind and need only their shared nature to inspire affection for one another. But you, who besides nature have countless reasons to draw you close and bind you to the member of your own body—being honored with the Word, participating in one religion, sharing in countless blessings—have become wilder than they are. You show such care for useless things while leaving the Temples of God to perish in hunger and nakedness, and often surrounding them with a thousand evils besides. For if you do these things out of a love of glory, you have a much greater obligation to care for your brother than for your horse. For the better the creature receiving the kindness, the brighter the crown woven for such care. Yet now, by doing the opposite of all this, you bring countless accusers upon yourself without noticing it. For who will not speak ill of you? Who will not charge you with the greatest cruelty and hatred of humanity when he sees you disregard the human race and place irrational creatures above people—and, besides irrational creatures, even your household furnishings? Have you not heard the Apostles say that those who first received the word sold both “houses and lands” (Acts iv. 34) to support the brothers? But you plunder houses and lands to decorate a horse, woodwork, leather, walls, or a floor. And what is worse, women as well as men are afflicted with this madness, urging their husbands into these empty efforts by forcing them to spend their money on anything rather than necessities. And if anyone accuses them of this, they have a ready defense that itself gives plenty of grounds for accusation. For both things are done at once, someone says. What are you saying? Are you not afraid to say such a thing and put horses, mules, couches, and footstools on the same level as the hungry Christ? Or rather, you do not even treat them equally, but give the larger share to these things and grudgingly measure out a scant share to Him! Do you not know that everything belongs to Him, both you and what you own? Do you not know that He fashioned your body, gave you a soul, and allotted you the whole world? Yet you are unwilling to give Him even a little in return. But if you rent out a little hut, you demand the rent with the utmost strictness. Although you reap the benefits of His entire creation and live in so vast a world, you cannot bring yourself to pay even a little rent, but have surrendered yourself and everything you have to the pursuit of empty glory. For this is where all these things come from. The horse gains nothing beyond his natural excellence from this ornament, nor does the person riding him. Sometimes the rider is only held in lower esteem because of it, since many ignore him and turn their eyes to the horse's ornaments, the attendants in front and behind, and the fan-bearers. But they hate the man these people attend and turn their heads away from him as a common enemy. This does not happen when you adorn your soul, for then people, angels, and the Lord of angels all weave you a crown. So if you love glory, stop doing what you are doing now and show your taste in your soul rather than your house, so that you may become radiant and outstanding. For now nothing could be more contemptible than you, with your soul unfurnished and only the beauty of your house to hide behind. But if you are impatient with hearing me speak this way, listen to what someone outside the faith did, and at least let their philosophy put you to shame. For it is said that one of them entered a palace gleaming with abundant gold and the great beauty of its marble and columns. When he saw carpets spread all over the floor, he spat in the face of the master of the house. When he was reproached for it, he said that since there was no other place in the house where he could do this, he was forced to inflict this insult on the man's face. See how ridiculous someone is who displays his taste in outward things, and how little he amounts to in the eyes of all reasonable people. And with good reason. For if someone left your wife in rags and neglected her, while dressing your female servants in splendid clothes, you would not bear it calmly. You would be furious and call it an extreme insult. Think about your soul in the same way. When you display your taste in walls, floors, furniture, and other such things, without giving generously to the poor or practicing the other parts of a religious life (φιλοσοφίαν), you do no less than this—or rather, something far worse. For the difference between servant and mistress is nothing, while the difference between soul and flesh is great. And if that is true of the flesh, it is much more true of a house, couch, or footstool. What excuse, then, do you deserve, covering all these things with silver while giving no care to your soul, though it is covered in filthy rags, squalid, hungry, full of wounds, and torn by countless hounds (Luke xvi. 20, 21)? And after all this, you imagine you will gain glory by displaying your taste in the outward things around you! This is the very height of madness: to remain vain about these things while being ridiculed, reproached, disgraced, dishonored, and falling under the severest punishment! So I beg you, let us take all this to heart, come to our senses, late as it is, regain control of ourselves, and transfer this adornment from outward things to our souls. For there it will remain safe from theft, make us equal to the angels, and provide us with unchanging blessings. May we all attain them through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.