Homilies on Matthew, Homily 23

“Do not judge, so that you will not be judged.” What then? Shouldn’t we blame those who sin? Paul says this very same thing—or rather, there too it is Christ speaking through Paul and saying, “Why do you judge your brother? And you, why do you treat your brother with contempt?” And, “Who are you to judge another man’s servant?” And again, “Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes.” How then does He say elsewhere, “Correct, rebuke, encourage,” and, “Rebuke those who sin in front of everyone”? And Christ also says to Peter, “Go and tell him his fault between you and him alone,” and if he refuses to listen, take someone else with you too; and if he still will not give in, tell the church as well? And how has He placed so many people over us to correct us—and not only to correct us, but also to punish us? For He has commanded that anyone who listens to none of these should be “like a pagan and a tax collector.” And why did He also give them the keys? For if they are not to judge, they will have no authority in any matter, and they have received the power to bind and to loose for nothing. Besides, if this rule applied without qualification, everything would be ruined alike, whether in churches, states, or households. Unless the master judges the servant, the mistress the maid, the father the son, and friends one another, every kind of wickedness will increase. And why do I say friends? Unless we judge our enemies, we will never be able to end our hostility, and everything will be turned upside down. What, then, can this saying mean? Let us pay close attention, so that no one takes the medicines of salvation and the laws of peace for laws that bring ruin and confusion. First of all, through what follows, He has shown those who understand how excellent this law is, saying, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own eye?” But if it still seems somewhat obscure to many who have paid less attention, I will try to explain it from the beginning. Here, at least as it seems to me, He does not give an unqualified command against judging any human sins, nor does He forbid the practice altogether. Instead, He addresses those who are full of countless evils and trample on others over trifles. And I think He is also hinting at certain Jews here, because while they bitterly accused their neighbors over small faults that amounted to nothing, they themselves were unknowingly committing deadly sins. He also reproached them for this toward the end, when He said, “You bind heavy burdens that are hard to carry, but you will not move them with your finger,” and, “You pay a tithe of mint and anise, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: judgment, mercy, and faith.” Well then, I think these people are included in His denunciation, and that He is checking them in advance over the things they would later accuse His disciples of doing. Although His disciples had committed no such sin, their actions were still treated as offenses—for instance, not keeping the Sabbath, eating with unwashed hands, and dining with tax collectors. Of these people He also says elsewhere, “You strain out the gnat and swallow the camel.” Yet He is also laying down a general law about these matters. Paul, too, did not command the Corinthians to stop judging altogether, but to stop judging their own superiors on grounds that were not established; he did not tell them to refrain entirely from correcting those who sin. Nor was He then rebuking everyone without distinction. His rebuke was directed at disciples who treated their teachers this way, and at those who, though guilty of countless sins themselves, speak evil of the innocent. This, then, is the kind of thing Christ also indicated here. He did not merely indicate it, but backed it with a terrifying warning and a punishment from which no prayers can deliver us. 2. “For with the judgment you use,” He says, “you will be judged.” That is, Christ says, “You are condemning yourself, rather than the other person, making the judgment seat terrifying for yourself and the account you must give subject to strict scrutiny.” Just as the forgiveness of our sins begins with us, so in this judgment we ourselves set the measure of our condemnation. You see, we should admonish people rather than reproach or trample on them; advise them rather than insult them; correct them gently rather than attack them with pride. For when it may be necessary to pass judgment on someone’s offenses, by showing him no mercy you hand yourself, rather than him, over to the severest punishment. Do you see how these two commandments are both easy and full of great blessings for those who obey, just as they bring evils on those who disregard them? Of the two people involved, the one who forgives his neighbor has first freed himself from the grounds for complaint, and has done so without any effort. And the one who examines other people’s offenses gently and leniently has, through his judgment, stored up a generous measure of pardon for himself in advance. “What then?” you say. “If someone engages in sexual immorality, may I not say that sexual immorality is wrong, or correct someone who is living immorally at all?” Certainly, correct him—but as a physician providing medicine, rather than an enemy or an opponent demanding punishment. Christ did not say, “Do not stop someone who is sinning,” but, “Do not judge”—that is, do not be harsh in passing sentence. Besides, as I have already observed, this is said about things that are not even considered offenses, rather than serious matters or forbidden acts. That is why He also said, “Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye?” Yes, many people do this now. If they merely see a monk wearing an unnecessary garment, they bring our Lord’s law against him, while they themselves extort money endlessly and cheat people every day. If they see him eating a rather large amount of food, they become bitter accusers, while they themselves get drunk and overeat every day. They do not realize that, beyond their own sins, by doing this they are piling up a greater flame for themselves and depriving themselves of every defense. By passing sentence on your neighbor’s actions this way, you yourself have first laid down the law that your own actions must be strictly examined. So do not consider it a hardship if you yourself must undergo the same kind of trial. “You hypocrite, first take the beam out of your own eye.” Here He means to show His great anger against those who do such things. For whenever He wants to indicate that a sin is great, and that the punishment and anger awaiting it are severe, He begins with a reproach. Just as He said in His deep displeasure to the man demanding the hundred denarii, “You wicked servant, I forgave you all that debt,” so here He says, “You hypocrite.” Such judgment comes from ill will toward another person, rather than protective concern. While putting on a mask of kindness, a person does something utterly wicked: he makes groundless reproaches and accusations stick to his neighbors, and claims a teacher’s rank when he is not worthy even to be a disciple. This is why He called him a “hypocrite.” For you who are so harsh about other people’s actions that you notice even little things—how have you become so careless about your own that you rush past even the great ones? “First take the beam out of your own eye.” Do you see that He does not forbid judging, but commands you first to take the beam out of your own eye, and then to set right the actions of the rest of the world? Each person knows his own affairs better than those of others, sees greater things more readily than smaller ones, and loves himself more than his neighbor. So if you act out of protective concern, I tell you to care for yourself first, since in your case the sin is both more certain and greater. But if you neglect yourself, it is quite clear that you judge your brother out of hatred and a wish to expose him, rather than concern for him. Even if he ought to be judged, it should be by someone who commits no such sin, rather than by you. Thus, because He had introduced great and lofty teachings about self-denial, someone might say that it is easy to put this into words. So He spoke this parable to show His complete confidence, and that He could not be charged with any of the things mentioned, but had properly fulfilled them all. He did this because He too would later judge, saying, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites.” Yet He could not be charged with what has been mentioned: He was not pulling out a speck, nor did He have a beam in His eyes. Rather, being free of all these things, He corrected everyone’s faults in this way. “For it is entirely inappropriate,” He says, “to judge others when you are guilty of the same things.” And why be surprised that He established this law, when even the thief on the cross knew it, saying to the other thief, “Do you not fear God, seeing that we are under the same condemnation?” He was expressing the same thoughts as Christ. But you are so far from taking out your own beam that you do not even see it, while you not only see another person’s speck, but also judge it and try to remove it. You are like someone suffering from severe dropsy, or some other incurable disease, who neglects it and criticizes someone else for neglecting a slight swelling. And if failing to see your own sins is evil, sitting in judgment on others is twice and three times as evil when you yourself carry beams in your eyes as though you have lost all feeling. For no beam is as heavy as sin. His command in these words, then, is that someone guilty of countless evil deeds should not be a harsh critic of other people’s offenses, especially when they are trivial. He is not abolishing rebuke or correction, but forbidding people to neglect their own faults and gloat over those of others. Indeed, this was a cause of people falling into great vice, introducing a double wickedness. Someone who habitually disregarded his own faults, great as they were, and harshly searched out the slight and insignificant faults of others was ruining himself in two ways: first, by taking his own faults lightly; and second, by becoming involved in hostilities and feuds with everyone, and training himself every day in extreme savagery and a lack of feeling for others. 3. After putting all these things aside through this excellent law, He added another command, saying, “Do not give what is holy to dogs, or throw your pearls before swine.” “Yet surely,” someone will say, “further on He commanded, ‘What you have heard in your ear, proclaim from the housetops.’” But this in no way contradicts the earlier saying. Even there He did not simply command them to tell everyone. Rather, He told them to speak freely to those to whom they should speak. Here He used “dogs” as an image for people living in incurable ungodliness, offering no hope of change for the better; and “swine” for those who persist in an unchaste life. He has declared all of them unworthy to hear such things. Paul also expressed this when He said, “But a natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit, for they are foolishness to him.” In many other places too, He says that a corrupt life is the reason people do not receive the more perfect teachings. That is why He commands us not to open the doors to them: after learning, they become even more insolent. For just as these things seem worthy of reverence to the well-disposed and intelligent when they are revealed, so to the unfeeling they seem more worthy of reverence when they remain unknown. “Since, then, their nature makes them unable to learn them, let the matter remain hidden,” He says, “so that at least their ignorance may lead them to revere them. For a pig has no idea what a pearl is. So, since it does not know, do not even let it see one, for fear that it will trample underfoot what it does not understand.” When people with this disposition hear, nothing results except greater harm to them. They profane holy things because they do not know what they are, and become more arrogant and better armed against us. This is what is meant by, “So that they do not trample them under their feet, and turn back and tear you apart.” “But surely,” someone says, “these truths ought to be so strong that they remain just as invulnerable after people learn them, and give others no opportunity to attack us.” But the opportunity does not come from the truths themselves; it comes from these people being swine. Likewise, when a pearl is trampled underfoot, it is trampled because it fell among swine, rather than because it is actually worthless. And He was quite right to say, “Turn back and tear you apart.” For they pretend to be gentle so that they will be taught. Then, after learning, they completely change their behavior and jeer, mock, and ridicule us as people who have been deceived. That is why Paul also said to Timothy, “You too must beware of him, for he has strongly opposed our words”; and again elsewhere, “Turn away from such people,” and, “Reject a heretic after a first and second warning.” You see, these truths do not supply them with weapons. They become fools in this way of their own accord, growing more willful. For this reason, remaining ignorant is no small benefit to them, since they are then less thoroughly scornful. But if they learn, the harm is twofold: they themselves gain no benefit at all, but are instead harmed even more, and they cause you endless difficulties. Let those who shamelessly associate with everyone and make awe-inspiring things contemptible listen to this. This is why we too celebrate the mysteries behind closed doors and keep out the uninitiated: because most people are not yet adequately prepared for them, rather than because we have found any weakness in our rites. For this very reason He Himself also spoke to the Jews at length in parables, “because seeing, they did not see.” This is also why Paul commanded us “to know how we ought to answer each person.” 4. “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” He had commanded great and marvelous things. He had told people to rise above all their passions, led them up to Heaven itself, and commanded them to strive to resemble the very Lord of all (as far as possible), rather than angels and archangels. He had instructed His disciples not only to carry out all this properly themselves, but also to correct others and distinguish the evil from those who are not evil, the dogs from those who are not dogs (although much in people is hidden). They might therefore say, “These things are difficult and unbearable” (for later Peter did say things like this: “Who can be saved?” and again, “If that is the man’s situation, it is better not to marry”). To keep them from saying the same thing now, He had already shown through what came before that it was all easy, presenting many persuasive reasons one after another. And now, after everything else, He adds what makes it easiest of all, providing extraordinary relief from our labors through the help that comes from persistent prayer. Thus, He says, we are not to struggle alone, but also to call for help from above. It will certainly come and be with us, assist us in our struggles, and make everything easy. That is why He both commanded us to ask and pledged Himself to give. Yet He did not command us simply to ask, but to do so with great persistence and earnestness. This is what “seek” means. A person who seeks puts everything else out of his mind and becomes absorbed in the one thing he is looking for, paying no attention to anyone present. Those who have lost gold or servants and are searching diligently for them know what I mean. By “seeking,” then, He expressed this; by “knocking,” He expressed that we should approach earnestly, with a fervent mind. So do not lose heart, man, or show less zeal for virtue than others show desire for wealth. You have often searched for things of that kind without finding them. Yet even though you know you are not certain to find them, you use every possible means to search. But here, although you have a promise that you will certainly receive, you do not show even the smallest part of that earnestness. And if you do not receive immediately, do not despair even then. He said “knock” precisely to show that even if He does not open the door immediately, we are to stay there. 5. And if you doubt what I say, at least believe His example. “For which of you,” He says, “if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?” Among people, if you keep doing this, you are considered a nuisance and even disgusting; but with God, you provoke Him all the more when you fail to do it. And if you keep asking, even if you do not receive at once, you will certainly receive. The door was shut to prompt you to knock; He does not immediately agree so that you will ask. Keep doing these things, then, and you will certainly receive. So that you could not say, “What if I ask and do not receive?” He has blocked that objection with this comparison, once again constructing arguments and using human experience to encourage our confidence in these matters. Through these examples He implies that we must not only ask, but ask for what we ought. “For which of you is a father who, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?” So if you do not receive, the reason is that you are asking for a stone. Being a son is not enough to ensure that you receive. Rather, the very fact that you are a son and ask for something that will do you no good prevents you from receiving it. So you too should ask for nothing worldly, but for everything spiritual, and you will certainly receive. Look how quickly Solomon received because he asked for what he ought. You see, someone who prays needs two things: to ask earnestly, and to ask for what he ought. “For you too,” He says, “though you are fathers, wait for your sons to ask. And if they ask you for something harmful, you refuse to give it; just as, if it is beneficial, you agree and give it.” Consider these things yourself, and do not withdraw until you receive; do not leave until you have found; do not relax your efforts until the door is opened. For if you approach with this attitude and say, “Unless I receive, I will not leave,” you will certainly receive, provided you ask for things that are both fitting for Him to give and beneficial for you, the petitioner. But what are these? To seek spiritual things, all of them; to forgive those who have sinned against you, and then approach to ask forgiveness; “to lift up holy hands without anger and doubting.” If we ask this way, we will receive. As it is, our asking is surely a mockery, the act of drunken people rather than sober ones. “What then,” someone says, “if I ask even for spiritual things and do not receive?” Surely you did not knock earnestly, or you made yourself unworthy to receive, or you stopped too soon. “And why,” someone may ask, “did He not say what things we ought to ask for?” But He certainly has mentioned them all in what came before, and has indicated what we ought to approach Him for. So do not say, “I approached and did not receive.” For our failure to receive is never God’s fault—God, whose love for us surpasses even that of fathers, surpassing them as much as goodness surpasses this evil nature. “For if you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more your heavenly Father.” He said this to neither discredit human nature nor condemn our race as bad. Rather, in comparison with His own goodness, He calls a father’s tenderness evil, so far does His love for humanity exceed it. Do you see this inexpressibly powerful argument, able to awaken good hopes even in someone who has fallen into utter despair? Here He shows His goodness through our fathers, but earlier He showed it through the foremost of His gifts, the “soul” and the body. Nowhere does He mention the greatest of all good things or bring up His own coming—since He who was so ready to give His Son over to slaughter, “how will He not freely give us all things?”—because it had not yet happened. Paul, however, does set it out, saying, “He who did not spare His own Son, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?” But Christ’s discussion with them still draws on human affairs. 6. After this, He shows that we should neither rely on prayer while neglecting our own actions, nor trust only in our own efforts when we work hard. We should both seek help from above and do our own part, and He connects the two. Thus, after much exhortation, He also taught them how to pray. After teaching them how to pray, He returned to exhorting them about what we are to do; then from that He returned to the need to pray continually, saying, “Ask,” “seek,” and “knock.” And from there He returned again to the need for us to be diligent ourselves. “For everything,” He says, “that you would want people to do to you, do to them as well.” He sums everything up briefly, showing that virtue can be stated simply, is easy, and is readily understood by everyone. And He did not merely say, “Everything that you would want,” but, “Therefore everything that you would want.” He did not add the word “therefore” without a purpose, but with an underlying meaning: “If you want to be heard,” He says, “do these things too, along with what I have said.” What are these things? “Whatever you would want people to do to you.” Do you see how He has also shown here that, along with prayer, we need to live rightly in every detail? And He did not say, “Whatever you would want God to do to you, do to your neighbor,” for fear you might say, “But how is that possible? He is God, and I am human.” Rather, He says, “Whatever you would want your fellow servant to do to you, do these things yourself for your neighbor.” What could be less burdensome? What could be fairer? Then, even before the rewards, the praise is extraordinarily great. “For this is the law and the prophets.” This makes it clear that virtue accords with our nature, that we all know our duties for ourselves, and that we can never take refuge in ignorance. 7. “Enter through the narrow gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many enter through it; and narrow is the gate and confined is the way that leads to life, and few find it.” Yet after this He said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” And in what He has just said, He indicated the same thing. How, then, does He say here that it is narrow and confined? First of all, if you pay attention, even here He presents it as very light, easy, and accessible. “And how,” someone may say, “is the narrow and confined way easy?” Because it is a way and a gate, just as the other, though wide and spacious, is also a way and a gate. Neither is permanent: everything passes away, both the pains and the good things of life. The path of virtue is easy not only in this respect; its destination makes it easier still. For the fact that our labors and struggles pass away, and also that they reach a good end (for they end in life), is enough to comfort those engaged in the struggle. So the temporary nature of our labors, the permanence of our crowns, and the fact that the labors come first and the crowns afterward must bring great relief in our struggles. That is why Paul also called their affliction “light”—because of the attitude of those engaged in the contest and their hope for the future, rather than the nature of the events themselves. “For our light affliction,” he says, “produces an eternal weight of glory, while we look at the things that are unseen, rather than the things that are seen.” For if waves and seas are light and bearable to sailors, slaughter and wounds to soldiers, winters and frosts to farmers, and sharp blows to boxers, all because they hope for rewards that are temporary and perishable, how much more bearable will every present hardship be when heaven, inexpressible blessings, and eternal rewards are set before them—so bearable that they will not even feel it? Or if anyone still considers it arduous, that impression comes only from their own lack of effort. See, too, how He makes it easy in another way, by commanding us not to associate with dogs or give ourselves over to swine, and to “beware of false prophets.” In every way He makes people feel that they are engaged in a real struggle. Even calling it narrow helped greatly to make it easy, because it prompted them to stay alert. Just as Paul says, “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood,” to rouse the soldiers’ spirits rather than discourage them, so Christ called the way rough to shake the travelers out of their sleep. Nor was this His only way of prompting people to stay alert. He also added that along the way there are many who will trip them up; and, even worse, they hide themselves instead of attacking openly. Such is the tribe of false prophets. “But consider where it ends,” He says, “rather than its roughness and narrowness; and consider where the opposite way leads, rather than its width and spaciousness.” He says all these things to fully awaken our eagerness, just as He also said elsewhere, “Violent men take it by force.” For anyone engaged in a contest is encouraged all the more when he sees the judge of the games marveling at how hard he is struggling. So let us not be bewildered when many things arise along this way to trouble us. For the way is confined and the gate narrow, but the city is not. Therefore we must neither look for rest here nor expect anything painful there. Now in saying, “Few find it,” He again both revealed the carelessness of most people and taught His hearers to look at the labors of the few rather than the prosperity of the many. For most people, He says, do not even choose this way, much less walk it—a profoundly culpable failure. But we should neither look to the many nor be troubled by this. Instead, we should imitate the few, equip ourselves in every way, and walk this path. For besides its being confined, there are also many people ready to knock us down on the way that leads there. That is why He also added, 8. “Beware of false prophets, for they will come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves.” See, alongside the dogs and swine, another kind of ambush and conspiracy, far more dangerous than theirs. Those are recognizable and open, but these are concealed. For this reason, while He commanded us to keep away from the former, He instructed us to watch the latter very carefully, as though it were impossible to recognize them when they first approach. That is also why He said, “Beware,” making us more careful in discerning them. They had heard that the way was narrow and confined, that they must travel a path opposite to that of the many, and that they must guard against swine and dogs, and also against another, even more wicked kind—wolves. They might lose heart at this multitude of troubles, having both to travel a way contrary to most people and to take such care over these dangers. So He reminded them of what happened in their ancestors’ days by using the term “false prophets,” for such things happened just as much then. “Please do not be troubled now,” He says, in effect, “for nothing new or strange is going to happen to you.” For the devil is always secretly substituting a corresponding deception for every truth. And by the image of “false prophets” here, I think He is indicating people who lead corrupt lives while wearing a mask of virtue, rather than heretics. Most people usually call them impostors. That is why He went on to say, “You will know them by their fruits.” For among heretics one may often find actual goodness of life, but by no means among those I was describing. “What then,” someone may say, “if they fake these things too?” “No, they will be easily detected. For the way I commanded people to walk is painful and difficult by its very nature, but the hypocrite would choose only to put on a show rather than make an effort. That is also why he is easily exposed.” Thus, since He had said, “Few find it,” He again rules out those who fail to find it but pretend they do, commanding us to look at those who actually follow it, rather than those who merely wear masks. “But why,” someone may say, “did He not reveal them, instead of setting us to search for them?” So that we would stay alert and always be ready for the struggle, guarding against our disguised enemies as well as our open ones. Paul was also indicating this kind when he said that “by their good words they deceive the hearts of the simple.” So let us not be troubled when we see many such people even now. For Christ foretold this too from the beginning. And see His gentleness: He did not say, “Punish them,” but, “Do not let them harm you,” and, “Do not fall among them unguarded.” Then, so that you could not say, “It is impossible to distinguish that sort of person,” He again presents an argument from a familiar example, saying, “Do people gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the corrupt tree bears evil fruit. A good tree cannot bear evil fruit, nor can a corrupt tree bear good fruit.” What He means is this: they have nothing gentle or sweet about them; only their outer skin is that of sheep. That is why they are easy to distinguish. And so that you would not have the slightest doubt, He compares this to necessary processes in nature, matters that allow only one outcome. In this sense Paul also said, “For the mind of the flesh is death; for it does not submit to the law of God, nor indeed can it.” And if He states the same thing twice, it is no empty repetition. Someone might say, “Although the evil tree bears evil fruit, it also bears good fruit, making the distinction difficult because the crop is mixed.” “That is not so,” He says, “for it bears only evil fruit and can never bear good, just as the reverse is also true.” “What then? Can’t a good man become wicked? And the reverse also happens; life is full of such examples.” But Christ is not saying that the wicked have no way to change, or that the good cannot fall away. He is saying that as long as someone lives in wickedness, he will be unable to bear good fruit. Though evil, he may indeed change to virtue; but while he continues in wickedness, he will not bear good fruit. What then? Did not David, though good, bear evil fruit? He did so after changing, rather than while remaining good. For undoubtedly, if he had always remained what he was, he would not have produced such fruit. Surely he did not commit what he committed while continuing in the practice of virtue. Through these words He was also silencing those who speak evil indiscriminately and bridling every slanderer’s lips. I mean that, since many people suspect the good because of the bad, He has deprived them of every excuse by this saying. “For you cannot say, ‘I am deceived and misled,’ since I have given you this precise way to distinguish them by their works, adding the command to examine their actions rather than indiscriminately lump everyone together.” 9. Then, since He had commanded us only to beware of them, rather than punish them, He raised the punishment they would receive at His hands as a defensive wall against them. He did this both to comfort those whom they trouble and to frighten and change the offenders, saying, “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” Then, to make the saying less severe, He added, “Therefore you will know them by their fruits.” He did this so that He would seem to be awakening their minds through warning and counsel, rather than making the threat His main subject. Here He seems to me to be hinting also at the Jews, who were producing such fruits. That is why He also reminded them of John’s sayings, describing their punishment in the very same terms. For John too said the very same thing, speaking to them of an “axe,” a “tree cut down,” and “unquenchable fire.” Although being burned up may seem to be a single sentence, careful examination shows that there are two punishments. For whoever is burned is, of course, also cast out of God’s kingdom, and this latter punishment is more painful than the other. Now I know that many people tremble only at hell, but I maintain that losing that glory is a far greater punishment than hell. And if words cannot show it to be so, that is no surprise. For we do not know the blessedness of those good things well enough to understand clearly, by contrast, the misery of being deprived of them. But Paul, who knows these things clearly, understands that losing Christ’s glory is more painful than anything else. And we will know this at that time, when we actually experience it. But may this never happen to us, O only-begotten Son of God, and may we never experience this punishment that cannot be remedied. For how great an evil it is to lose those good things cannot be fully expressed. Nevertheless, as best I can, I will work and strive to make it clear to you through an example, even if only to a small degree. Let us imagine a wonderful child who, besides His virtue, rules the whole world, and is so virtuous in every respect that He can inspire in everyone the longing of a father’s love. What theft do you think this child’s father would not gladly endure to avoid being excluded from His company? And what evil, small or great, would he not welcome on condition that he could see and enjoy Him? Now let us reason in just the same way about that glory. For no child, however virtuous, is as desirable and lovely to a father as having our share in those good things and “departing and being with Christ.” Certainly hell and that punishment are unbearable. Yet even if someone imagines ten thousand hells, he will have described nothing like what it will mean to miss that blessed glory, to be hated by Christ, to hear “I do not know you,” and to be accused of failing to feed Him when we saw Him hungry. Yes, surely it is better to endure a thousand thunderbolts than to see that gentle face turn away from us and that peaceful eye refuse to look at us. For while I was His enemy, hating Him and turning away from Him, He pursued me so far that He did not even spare Himself, but gave Himself over to death. After all this, when I will not give Him so much as a loaf of bread in His hunger, how will I ever be able to look at Him again? But notice His gentleness even here: He says nothing at all about His benefits, nor does He say, “You have despised Him who has done you so much good.” Nor does He say, “Me, who brought you into being from nonexistence, who breathed a soul into you and set you over everything on earth; who for your sake made earth, heaven, sea, air, and everything that exists; who was dishonored by you, yes, considered less worthy of honor than the devil, and even then did not withdraw Himself, but continued to care for you in countless ways after it all; who chose to become a slave, who was beaten with rods and spat on, who was killed, who died the most shameful death; who also intercedes for you on high, who freely gives you His Spirit, who grants you a kingdom, who makes you such promises; whose will is to be your Head, Bridegroom, Garment, House, Root, Food, Drink, Shepherd, and King; who has taken you as His brother, heir, and joint-heir with Himself; who has brought you out of darkness into the dominion of light.” These things, I say, and more than these He could mention, but He mentions none of them. What does He mention? Only the sin itself. Even here He shows His love and indicates His longing for you. He does not say, “Depart into the fire prepared for you,” but, “prepared for the devil.” And first He tells them what wrongs they have done, and even then He cannot bear to mention them all, but only a few. Before these people, He calls the other group, those who have done well, to show by this too that His blame is just. What punishment, then, is as painful as these words? For if someone saw even a human benefactor hungry, he would not neglect him. Or if he did neglect him and was reproached for it, he would rather sink into the earth than hear about it in front of two or three friends. How, then, will we feel when we hear these words before the whole world—words He would not say even then unless He were earnestly explaining His own actions? His inexpressible benefits make it clear that He brings these things forward in His own defense and to show that He says, “Depart from me,” neither without grounds nor at random, rather than to reproach us. For if He had intended to reproach us, He would have brought up all those benefits; as it is, He mentions only the treatment He received. 10. So, beloved, let us fear hearing these words. Life is no game—or rather, our present life is a game, but the things to come are not. Or perhaps our life is even worse than a game. For it does not end in laughter, but brings enormous harm to those unwilling to govern their own ways carefully. Tell me, what difference is there between children playing at building houses and us building our fine houses? Or between their make-believe dinners and our luxurious meals? None, except that we do it at the risk of punishment. And if we do not yet fully recognize the worthlessness of what is going on, that is no surprise, since we have not yet grown up. But when we do, we will know that all these things are childish. For as we grow into adulthood, we also laugh scornfully at those other things; but as children we consider them worth worrying about. While gathering broken pottery and mud, we think no less of ourselves than people building great enclosing walls. Yet these things immediately crumble and fall, and even while standing they can be of no use to us—just as those fine houses can be of no use. For they cannot accommodate the citizen of Heaven, nor can someone whose homeland is above bear to live in them. Just as we kick down the children’s constructions, so he brings down those houses through his lofty spirit. And just as we laugh at children crying over the collapse, so these citizens of Heaven, when we mourn over it all, not only laugh but also weep, because their hearts are compassionate and the harm resulting from it is great. So let us grow up. How long will we crawl on the earth, taking pride in stones and wood? How long will we play? If only we were merely playing! As it is, we even betray our own salvation. Children who neglect their studies and spend their free time practicing these things receive very severe beatings. In the same way, if we devote all our efforts to these things, and then are required to demonstrate our spiritual lessons through our works and cannot do so, we will have to pay the utmost penalty. And there will be no one to deliver us, whether father, brother, or anyone else. All these things will pass away, but the torment that follows them remains deathless and unceasing. Something similar also happens with children: their father completely destroys their childish toys because of their idleness and leaves them crying endlessly. 11. And to convince you that these things are so, let us bring forward wealth, which seems more than anything else to deserve our efforts, and set against it a virtue of the soul (whichever you like). Then you will see its worthlessness most clearly. Let us suppose, I say, that there are two men (I am not speaking now of wrongdoing, but for the moment of honest wealth). Let one of these two accumulate money, sail the sea, cultivate the land, and find many other ways to trade (although I am not entirely sure whether he can make honest gains while doing so). Nevertheless, let it be so: let us grant that he makes his gains honestly, that he buys fields, slaves, and everything of that kind, and suppose there is no injustice connected with it. But let the other man, who owns just as much, sell fields, houses, and gold and silver vessels, and give to the poor. Let him provide for the needy, heal the sick, and free those in distress. Let him deliver some from chains, release others from the mines, save some from the noose, and rescue captives from their punishment. Whose side would you be on? We have not yet spoken of the future, but only of things here. Whose side would you be on, then: the man gathering gold, or the man putting an end to calamities? The man buying fields, or the man making himself a harbor of refuge for the human race? The man clothed in abundant gold, or the man crowned with countless blessings? Isn’t the one like an angel come down from Heaven to improve the rest of humanity, while the other is not even like a man, but like a little child gathering everything together pointlessly and at random? But if making money honestly is so absurd and utterly mad, how can someone who lacks even honesty be anything but more miserable than anyone else? I mean, if the absurdity is so great, how much mourning does he deserve, both living and dead, when hell and the loss of the kingdom are added to it? 12. Or would you like us to take up another aspect of virtue? Let us introduce another man who holds power, commands everyone, and holds high office, with a splendid herald, a belt of office, lictors, and a large company of attendants. Doesn’t this seem great and worthy of being called happy? Well then, let us set against this man another who patiently endures injuries, who is meek, humble, and patient. Let this latter man be abused and beaten, and let him bear it quietly and bless those who do these things. Now which one deserves admiration, tell me? The one swollen with pride and inflamed, or the one who has mastered himself? Isn’t the one again like the powers above, who are so free from passion, while the other is like an inflated bladder or someone with dropsy and severe inflammation? Isn’t the one like a spiritual physician, and the other a ridiculous child puffing out his cheeks? For why are you proud, man? Because you ride high in a chariot? Because a pair of mules pulls you? And what does that amount to? You can see the same thing happen to mere logs and stones. Is it because you wear beautiful clothes? But look at someone clothed in virtue, and you will see yourself as withering grass, and him as a tree that bears marvelous fruit and brings great delight to those who see it. For you carry around food for worms and moths, which, if they attack you, will quickly strip you of this adornment (for clothes are spun by worms, while gold and silver are earth and dust, and become earth again and nothing more). But someone clothed in virtue has clothing that neither worms nor even death itself can harm. And naturally so: these virtues of the soul do not originate from the earth, but are a fruit of the Spirit, and therefore are not subject to the mouths of worms. For these garments are woven in Heaven, where there is no moth, worm, or anything of the kind. Which, then, is better, tell me: to be rich or poor? To hold power or be dishonored? To live in luxury or hunger? It is quite clear: to have honor, enjoyment, and wealth. So if you want the realities rather than the names, leave the earth and the things here, and find a place to anchor in Heaven. For what is here is a shadow, but everything there is immovable, firm, and beyond attack. So let us choose those things with the utmost care, so that we may be delivered from the turmoil of things here, sail into that calm harbor, and be found with an abundant cargo and that inexpressible wealth of almsgiving. May God grant that we all attain it, through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.