Homilies on Matthew, Homily 26

“And when He entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, pleading with Him and saying, Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed and suffering terribly.” The leper came to Him “when He had come down from the mountain,” but this centurion came “when He entered Capernaum.” Why, then, did neither of them go up the mountain? It was not from negligence, for both had fervent faith, but to avoid interrupting His teaching. But when he came to Him, he said, “My servant is lying at home paralyzed and suffering terribly.” Now some say that he also mentioned the cause to explain why he had not brought him. “For it was impossible,” he says, “to lift him and carry him here, paralyzed as he was, suffering and gasping his last.” For Luke says that he was at the point of death: “And he was about to die.” But I say this is a sign that he had great faith, even much greater than those who lowered a man through the roof. Because he knew for certain that even a simple command was enough to raise the sick man, he thought it unnecessary to bring him. What, then, does Jesus do? Here He does something He had never done before. On every other occasion He would respond to the wishes of those who pleaded with Him, but here He eagerly anticipates the request and offers not only to heal him but also to come to the house. He does this so that we might learn the centurion’s virtue. For if He had not made this offer but had said, “Go; let your servant be healed,” we would have known none of these things. He also did this, in the opposite way, in the case of the Phoenician woman. Here, without being invited to the house, He freely says that He will come, so that you might learn of the centurion’s faith and great humility. But in the Phoenician woman’s case, He refuses her request and, by persisting in His refusal, brings her into great distress. For as a wise physician with many resources, He knows how to bring about opposites through one another. Just as here He reveals the centurion’s faith by freely offering to come, there He reveals the woman’s faith by firmly putting her off and refusing her. He does the same in Abraham’s case, saying, “I will by no means hide this from Abraham my servant,” to make you aware of that man’s loving concern and his care for Sodom. And in Lot’s case, those who were sent refuse to enter his house, to make you aware of the greatness of that righteous man’s hospitality. What, then, does the centurion say? “I am not worthy for You to come under my roof.” Let all of us who are going to receive Christ listen, for it is possible to receive Him even now. Let us listen, follow his example, and receive Him with just as much zeal. For when you receive a poor man who is hungry and naked, you have received and cared for Him. 2. “But just say a word, and my servant will be healed.” See how this man too, like the leper, has the right understanding of Him. He did not say, “appeal,” or “pray and plead,” but “just command.” And then, fearing that He might refuse out of modesty, he says, “For I too am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to this man, go, and he goes; and to another, come, and he comes; and to my servant, do this, and he does it.” “And what does that prove,” someone says, “if the centurion thought this was so? The question is whether Christ affirmed and endorsed it.” You make a good and very sensible point. Let us examine that very thing, then, and we will find that what happened with the leper happens here as well. The leper said, “If You are willing” (and we are certain of His authority not just from the leper’s words but also from Christ’s own voice: far from putting an end to this belief, He confirmed it still more by adding words that would otherwise have been unnecessary, “I am willing; be cleansed,” to establish that man’s teaching). So here too we should see whether anything like that occurred. In fact, we will find the same thing happening again. When the centurion had spoken these words and testified to His supreme authority, far from rebuking him, He approved, and did something more than approve. For the evangelist has not said merely that He praised the statement; to show the intensity of His praise, he says that He even “marveled.” Nor did He simply marvel, but He did so before all the people and held the centurion up as an example for the rest to follow. Do you see how everyone who testified to His authority is marveled at? “And the crowds were astonished at His teaching, because He taught as one having authority.” Far from rebuking them, He took them with Him when He came down, and confirmed their judgment by His words of cleansing to the leper. Again, that leper said, “If You are willing, You can make me clean.” Far from rebuking him, He instead cleansed him in the very way the man had described. Again, this centurion says, “Just speak the word, and my servant will be healed.” And, “marveling” at him, He said, “I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel.” Now consider the opposite case as further proof. Martha said nothing of this kind, but instead, “Whatever You ask of God, He will give You.” Far from being praised, although she knew Him, was dear to Him, and was among those who had shown great devotion to Him, she was instead rebuked and corrected for not speaking rightly. He said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” He reproached her as though she still did not believe. And again, because she had said, “Whatever You ask of God, He will give You,” He led her away from that notion and taught her that He does not need to receive from another but is Himself the fountain of all good things, saying, “I am the resurrection and the life.” That is, “I do not wait to receive the power to act, but do everything by myself.” That is why He both marvels at the centurion and ranks him above all the people, honors him with the gift of the kingdom, and stirs the others to the same zeal. And to show you that He spoke this way for that purpose, namely, to teach the others to believe in the same way, listen to how precisely the evangelist indicates it. For, “Jesus,” he says, “turned around and said to those who followed Him, I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel.” It follows that thinking highly of Him is especially a mark of faith and helps us obtain the kingdom and His other blessings. For His praise did not stop at words: He both restored the sick man to health as a reward for the centurion’s faith, and weaves him a glorious crown and promises great gifts, saying, “Many will come from the east and west and recline in the bosoms of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; but the children of the kingdom will be thrown out.” Thus, after showing them many miracles, He begins to speak to them more openly. Then, so that no one might suppose His words were flattery, but everyone might know that this was indeed the centurion’s attitude, He says, “Go; let it be done for you as you have believed.” And immediately the deed followed, bearing witness to his character. “And his servant was healed from that hour.” This was also the outcome for the Syrophoenician woman, for He says to her too, “O woman, your faith is great; let it be done for you as you wish. And her daughter was healed.” 3. But since Luke, in relating this miracle, also includes quite a few other things that seem to suggest some disagreement, we must explain these too. What, then, does Luke say? He sent elders of the Jews to Him, pleading with Him to come. But Matthew says that he came himself and said, “I am not worthy.” Some say that these are two different men, though they have many points in common. Thus, of the one it is said, “He has built our synagogue and loves our nation”; but concerning the other, Jesus Himself says, “I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel.” And regarding the former, He did not say, “many will come from the east,” which makes it likely that he was a Jew. What, then, are we to say? This solution is indeed easy, but the question is whether it is true. To me, this seems to be the same man. How, then, someone may ask, does Matthew report that he himself said, “I am not worthy for You to come under my roof,” while Luke says that he sent for Christ to come? Luke seems to me to be indicating the Jews’ flattery, and showing that people in distress, being unsettled, make many different plans. It is likely that when the centurion wanted to go, the Jews stopped him, flattering him and saying, “We will go and bring Him.” Notice, at any rate, that even their appeal is full of flattery. “For he loves our nation,” it says, “and he built our synagogue.” They do not even know what to praise the man for. They should have said, “He intended to come himself and plead with You, but we stopped him, seeing his distress and the calamity that had struck his household,” and so presented the greatness of his faith. But they do not say this, for envy made them unwilling to declare the man’s faith. They preferred to obscure the virtue of the man for whom they had come to plead, for fear that the One they were pleading with might appear to be someone great, rather than accomplish their purpose by proclaiming the other man’s faith. For envy is enough to blind the understanding. But He who knows secret things proclaimed the centurion’s virtue even against their wishes. And to see that this is true, listen again to Luke himself explaining it. He says, “When He was not far away, he sent, saying, O Lord, do not trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy for You to enter under my roof.” That is, once he was free of their insistence, he sent this message: “Do not think I failed to come out of laziness; I considered myself unworthy to receive You in my house.” And if Matthew says that he said this himself rather than through his friends, that proves nothing. The question is whether each evangelist has shown us the man’s zeal and his right understanding of Christ. But it is likely that after sending his friends, he also came himself and said these things. And if Luke did not mention the one thing, neither did Matthew mention the other. This is what people do when they fill in one another’s omissions, rather than disagree with one another. But see how Luke also proclaims his faith through another detail, saying that his servant “was about to die.” Even this did not plunge him into despair or make him give up; even so, he trusted that he would succeed. And if Matthew states that Christ said, “I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel,” clearly showing by this that he was not an Israelite, while Luke says, “He built our synagogue,” this is no contradiction either. For someone could build the synagogue and love the nation even without being a Jew. 4. But please do not consider only what he said; take his rank into account too, and then you will see the man’s excellence. For those in positions of command are very proud, and even in distress they do not humble themselves. The man described in John, for example, insists on bringing Him to his house and says, “Come down, for my child is about to die.” But this man does nothing of the kind; he is far superior both to him and to those who lowered the bed through the roof. For he does not seek His bodily presence, nor did he bring the sick man to the physician. This showed no low opinion of Him, but rather a sense of His divine dignity. And he says, “Just speak the word.” At first he does not even say, “speak the word,” but only describes his distress. In his great humility, he did not expect Christ to agree immediately and ask where his house was. Therefore, only when he heard Him say, “I will come and heal him,” did he say, “speak the word.” Nor did the suffering unsettle him; even in calamity he reasons calmly, concerned less with the servant’s health than with avoiding any appearance of doing something irreverent. And yet he had not pressed for this; Christ had offered it. Even so, he feared that he might seem to be reaching beyond what he deserved and taking on something beyond his strength. Do you see his wisdom? Notice the folly of the Jews in saying, “He was worthy for Him to do this favor.” When they should have appealed to Jesus’ love for humanity, they instead cite this man’s worthiness, and do not even know what grounds to give for it. But he did otherwise: he declared himself utterly unworthy, not only of the favor but even of receiving the Lord in his house. That is why, even when he said, “My servant is lying sick,” he did not add, “speak,” fearing that he might be unworthy to receive the gift; he merely made his distress known. And when he saw Christ’s eagerness in response, even then he did not rush forward, but continued to keep his proper place to the end. And if anyone asks, “Why did Christ not honor him in return?” we would answer that He did honor him in return, and greatly: first by revealing his attitude, which became especially clear through His not coming to his house; and second, by bringing him into His kingdom and ranking him above the entire Jewish nation. Because he declared himself unworthy even to receive Christ into his house, he became worthy both of a kingdom and of obtaining the good things Abraham enjoyed. “But why,” someone may ask, “was the leper not praised, when he showed something greater than this?” For he did not even say, “speak the word,” but something far greater: “only be willing.” This is what the prophet says of the Father: “He has done whatever He pleased.” But the leper too was praised. For when He said, “Offer the gift Moses commanded, as a testimony to them,” He meant nothing other than, “You will stand as their accuser because you believed.” Besides, it was one thing for a Jew to believe and another for someone outside that nation. That the centurion was not a Jew is clear both from his being a centurion and from the statement, “I have not found such great faith, no, not in Israel.” It was a very great thing for a man outside the Jewish people to embrace such a lofty understanding of Him. For, as it seems to me, he envisioned nothing less than the armies in Heaven, or understood that diseases, death, and everything else were as subject to Him as his soldiers were to himself. That is why he also said, “For I too am a man placed under authority.” That is, You are God, and I am a man; I am under authority, but You are not under authority. If I, then, being a man and under authority, can do so much, how much more can He, both as God and as One not under authority. Thus, in the strongest terms, he wants to convince Him that his example does not put them on the same level, but shows how much greater Christ’s power is. For if I, he says, though equal in honor to those I command and under authority myself, can nevertheless do such great things because of the slight superiority of my rank, and no one contradicts me, but whatever I command is done, even though the orders differ (“for I say to this man, go, and he goes; and to another, come, and he comes”), how much more will You Yourself be able to do. And some actually read the passage this way: “For if I, being a man,” and after inserting a pause, they add, “having soldiers under authority under me.” But please notice how he indicated that Christ can both subdue even death as a slave and command it as its master. For when he says, “come, and he comes,” and “go, and he goes,” he means this: “If You command that his end should not come upon him, it will not come.” Do you see how strong his faith was? Here is someone who has already made clear what would later become evident to everyone: that He has power over both death and life, and “leads down to the gates of hell and brings up again.” Nor was he speaking only of soldiers, but also of slaves, which implied more complete obedience. 5. Nevertheless, despite having such great faith, he still considered himself unworthy. But Christ, showing that he was worthy to have Him enter his house, did far greater things: He marveled at him, proclaimed his virtue, and gave more than he had asked. For he came seeking bodily health for his servant, but went away having received a kingdom. Do you see how the saying had already been fulfilled, “Seek the kingdom of heaven, and all these things will be added to you”? Because he showed great faith and humility of mind, He both gave him heaven and added health to it. And He honored him not only in this way, but also by indicating who would be thrown out when he was brought in. For from this point on, He begins to make known to everyone that salvation is by faith, not by works of the law. That is why the gift bestowed in this way will be offered not only to Jews but also to Gentiles, and to the latter rather than the former. “Do not think for a moment,” He says, “that this has happened only in this man’s case; it will be so throughout the whole world.” He said this as a prophecy about the Gentiles, offering them good hopes. For there were in fact some following Him from Galilee of the Gentiles. He said this both to keep the Gentiles from despairing and to humble the Jews’ proud spirits. But so that His words would not offend His hearers or give them grounds for objection, He does not prominently introduce what He has to say about the Gentiles, but takes His opportunity from the centurion. Nor does He use the term “Gentiles” outright: He does not say, “many of the Gentiles,” but “many from east and west.” This pointed to the Gentiles, but did not offend His hearers as much, because His meaning was veiled. He softens the apparent novelty of His teaching not only in this way, but also by speaking of “Abraham’s bosom” instead of “the kingdom.” For that term was not familiar to them either; moreover, mentioning Abraham would sting them more sharply. That is why John too said nothing about hell at first, but said what would distress them most: “Do not think of saying, we are children of Abraham.” He is also taking care of another matter: to avoid appearing in any way opposed to the ancient order. For someone who admires the patriarchs and speaks of their bosom as an inheritance of blessings does more than enough to remove this suspicion too. So let no one suppose that there is only one threat, for both the punishment of the one group and the joy of the other are twofold. The former not only lost out, but lost what was their own; the latter not only obtained blessings, but obtained what they had never expected. And there is a third point besides these: one group received what belonged to the other. He calls them “children of the kingdom” because the kingdom had been prepared for them. This, more than anything, was likely to sting them: after pointing to them through His offer and promise as being in the patriarchs’ bosom, He throws them out after all. 6. Then, because what He had said was only an assertion, He confirms it by the miracle, just as He in turn confirms the miracles by the later fulfillment of the prediction. So if anyone disbelieves the healing the servant received then, let him believe it because of the prophecy that has now come true. For in the same way, even before its fulfillment, that prophecy was made clear to everyone by the sign that took place then. This is why, as you see, He first made that prediction and only afterward raised the paralyzed man: to make the future credible through the present, and the lesser through the greater. For virtuous people to enjoy His good things, and those of the opposite character to suffer His penalties, was not improbable, but reasonable and consistent with the course of law. But to strengthen the weak and raise the dead was beyond nature. Nevertheless, the centurion too contributed greatly to this great and marvelous work, as Christ Himself declared when He said, “Go, and let it be done for you as you have believed.” Do you see how the servant’s health loudly proclaimed both Christ’s power and the centurion’s faith, and also became a pledge of the future? Or rather, it was all a proclamation of Christ’s power. For He not only completely healed the servant’s body, but also Himself brought the centurion’s soul to faith through His miracles. And do not consider only that the one believed and the other was healed; marvel also at how quickly it happened. For the evangelist declared this too, saying, “And his servant was healed that very hour,” just as he also said of the leper, “he was immediately cleansed.” For He displayed His power not simply by healing, but by doing so in a wonderful way and in an instant. Nor does He benefit us only in this way, but also through His constant practice of introducing teaching about His kingdom while displaying His miracles, and drawing everyone toward it. For even those He threatened to throw out, He threatened not in order to throw them out, but to draw them into it through the fear His words inspired. And if even this did not benefit them, the blame is entirely theirs, as it is with everyone suffering from the same disease. For this can be seen happening not only among Jews, but also among those who have believed. Judas too was a child of the kingdom, and along with the disciples he was told, “You will sit on twelve thrones”; yet he became a child of hell. Meanwhile, the Ethiopian, barbarian though he was, and one of those “from the east and west,” will enjoy the crowns with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This happens among us now as well. “For many,” He says, “who are first will be last, and the last first.” He says this so that the one group will not lose heart as though unable to return, and the others will not be overconfident as though standing securely. John too declared this earlier, from the beginning, when he said, “God is able to raise up children for Abraham from these stones.” Thus, because this was going to happen, it is proclaimed long beforehand, so that no one will be bewildered by the strangeness of the event. But John speaks of it as a possibility, since he came first, while Christ speaks of it as something certain to happen, providing proof through His works. 7. So those of us who stand should not be overconfident, but should say to ourselves, “Let anyone who thinks he stands take care not to fall.” Those of us who have fallen should not despair, but should say to ourselves, “Doesn’t someone who falls get up?” For many who had climbed to the very summit of Heaven, practiced every austerity, and made their homes in the deserts, without seeing a woman even in a dream, became a little careless, stumbled, and plunged into the very gulf of wickedness. Others, in turn, have climbed from there to Heaven, and passed from the stage and orchestra to the discipline of angels, displaying such great virtue that they drove out demons and worked many other miracles of that kind. Both the Scriptures and our own lives are full of these examples. Even men who consort with prostitutes and effeminate men silence the Manichaeans, who say that wickedness cannot change, thus enlisting on the devil’s side, weakening the hands of those who want to make a serious effort, and overturning our whole way of life. For those who teach these things not only harm people regarding the future, but also do all they can to turn everything upside down here. For when will anyone living in wickedness care about virtue as long as he considers a return to it and a change for the better impossible? Even now, when laws exist, penalties are threatened, public opinion restrains ordinary people, hell is expected, a kingdom is promised, wrong deeds are condemned, and good deeds praised, hardly anyone chooses to undertake the labor virtue requires. If you take all these things away, what is there to prevent universal ruin and corruption? So, knowing the devil’s cunning, and knowing that the Gentiles’ lawgivers, God’s oracles, the reasoning of nature, and the common judgment of all people—yes, barbarians, Scythians, Thracians, and everyone in general—are directly opposed both to these people and to those who try to establish the doctrines of fate, let us be watchful, beloved. Let us leave all those people behind and travel the narrow way with both confidence and fear: fear because of the precipices on either side, confidence because Jesus is our guide. Let us travel on, alert and awake. For if someone dozes even for a little while, he is quickly swept away. 8. For we are not more perfect than David, who through a little carelessness was hurled into the very gulf of sin. Yet he quickly rose again. So do not look only at his sin, but also at how he washed his sin away. For He had that history written so that you would not merely see David fallen, but admire him risen, and learn how to rise when you have fallen. Physicians select the most serious diseases, describe them in their books, and teach their methods of treatment in similar cases, so that people who have practiced treating the greater diseases may easily master the lesser. In the same way, God has brought the greatest sins before us so that those who commit smaller offenses may find their cure easy through these examples. For if those could be healed, how much more the lesser ones. So let us examine both that blessed man’s sickness and his speedy recovery. What, then, was his sickness? He committed adultery and murder. For I do not shrink from proclaiming these things aloud. If the Holy Spirit did not consider it shameful to record this whole history, much less should we obscure it. That is why I not only proclaim it but add another circumstance as well. In fact, those who hide these things do more than anyone to obscure his virtue. Just as those who say nothing about his battle with Goliath deprive him of great crowns, so do those who hurry past this history. Does what I am saying seem paradoxical? Wait a little, and then you will know that we have good reason to say it. For I magnify the sin and make my statement more startling so that I may provide the medicines all the more abundantly. What, then, do I add? The man’s virtue, which also makes his fault greater. For the same things are not judged alike in everyone. “For the mighty,” it is said, “will be mightily tormented”; and, “The servant who knew his Lord’s will and does not do it will be beaten with many lashes.” So greater knowledge is grounds for greater punishment. For this same reason, if a priest commits the same sin as those under his charge, he will not endure the same punishment, but something far more severe. Perhaps, as you see the charge against him grow, you tremble and fear, and are astonished at me, as though I were heading down a precipice. But I am so confident on that righteous man’s behalf that I will go even further. For the more serious I make the charge, the more fully I will be able to show David’s praiseworthiness. “And what more than this,” you will say, “can be said?” A great deal more. In Cain’s case, what he did was not simply murder, but worse than many murders: he killed a brother, not a stranger; a brother who had suffered wrong rather than done it; and he did not follow many murderers, but was the first to commit that horrible crime. So here too, what was done was not simply murder. For the one who did it was no ordinary man, but a prophet. And he killed someone who had suffered wrong, rather than someone who had done it; indeed, the man had been grievously wronged by the forcible taking of his wife. Nevertheless, David added this crime afterward as well. 9. Do you see how I have not spared that righteous man, how I have mentioned his offenses without the slightest reserve? Yet I am so confident about his defense that, after laying so heavy a burden of sin on him, I wish both the Manichaeans, who ridicule all this most, and those infected with Marcion’s disease were here, so that I could silence them completely. They say, “He committed murder and adultery.” But I say not only this; I have also shown that the murder was doubly grave, first because of the one who suffered the wrong, and then because of the standing of the one who committed it. For it is one thing for someone who had been granted the Spirit, received such great benefits, and been admitted to such freedom of speech with God, and who had reached that stage of life, to dare to commit crimes of this kind; it is another to commit the same act without all these advantages. Nevertheless, this is precisely where that illustrious man is most worthy of admiration: after falling into the very pit of wickedness, he did not sink or despair or give himself over to apathy when he received so deadly a wound from the devil. Instead, quickly—or rather, immediately—and with great force, he struck a more deadly blow than the one he had received. It was as though, in war and battle, some barbarian had driven his spear into a commander’s heart or shot an arrow into his liver, and had added a second, more deadly wound to the first. Then the man who had received these terrible blows, fallen and rolling in the blood all around him, quickly rose, hurled a spear at the one who wounded him, and in an instant laid him dead on the ground. So it is here: the greater you declare the wound to be, the more admirable you show the wounded man’s soul to be, since after so terrible a wound he had the strength to rise again, stand at the very front of the battle line, and strike down the one who wounded him. Those who have fallen into serious sins know best how great a thing this is. For walking upright and running the whole course (for good hope accompanies such a soul, cheering and stirring it, strengthening it and increasing its zeal) is less proof of a noble and vigorous soul than being able to resume the same course after suffering the greatest loss following countless crowns, trophies, and victories. And to make what I am saying clear, I will try to set another example before you, in no way inferior to the first. Imagine, please, a ship’s captain who has crossed countless seas and sailed over the whole ocean. After all those storms, rocks, and waves, his ship sinks with its great cargo at the very mouth of the harbor, and he barely escapes that terrible shipwreck, naked. How would he naturally feel about the sea, sailing, and such labors? Unless he had a very noble soul, would such a man ever choose to see a beach, a ship, or a harbor again? I think not. Instead, he would lie with his face hidden, seeing night throughout the day and shrinking from everything. He would rather live by begging than take up the same work again. But this blessed man was different. Though he had suffered such a shipwreck after countless troubles and labors, he did not remain with his face covered. He launched his ship, spread his sails, took the rudder in hand, and devoted himself to the same work, making his wealth even more abundant again. Now, if standing firm is so admirable, what crowns must be deserved by rising again, refusing to lie down forever after a fall, and doing such deeds? And surely there were many things to drive him to despair. First, the greatness of his sins; second, that these things happened near the end of his life, rather than at its beginning, when our hopes are more abundant. For a merchant whose ship is wrecked just after leaving the harbor does not grieve as much as one who strikes a rock after very many trading voyages. Third, he suffered this when he had already acquired great wealth. For by that time he had stored up a substantial cargo: the deeds of his early youth as a shepherd; those involving Goliath, when he raised that glorious trophy; those showing his self-control toward Saul. For he displayed even the patient endurance taught in the gospel: he had his enemy in his hands ten thousand times and continually spared him, choosing to be deprived of his country, freedom, and life itself rather than kill the man who was unjustly plotting against him. Likewise, after becoming king, he performed many noble deeds. Besides what I have said, his reputation among the people, and his fall from such brilliant glory, would cause extraordinary distress. For the royal purple did not adorn him nearly as much as the stain of his sin disgraced him. And you know, of course, how serious it is to have evil deeds exposed, and how great a soul someone needs to avoid despair after the crowd’s condemnation, with so many witnesses to his offenses. Nevertheless, that noble man drew all these arrows out of his soul. Afterward he shone so brightly, wiped away the stain so thoroughly, and became so pure that even after his death his descendants had their sins treated more leniently because of him. And we find God saying the same thing about this man as He said about Abraham—or rather, much more about David. For concerning the patriarch it is said, “I remembered my covenant with Abraham.” But here He does not say “the covenant”; what does He say? “I will defend this city for my servant David’s sake.” Besides, because of His favor toward David, He did not allow Solomon to lose the kingdom, great as the sin he had committed was. The man’s glory was so great that many years later Peter, exhorting the Jews, spoke this way: “Let me speak freely to you about the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried.” And Christ too, speaking with the Jews, indicates that after his sin David was granted the Spirit to such a degree that he was considered worthy to prophesy again even concerning His Godhead. By this He silenced them, saying, “How then does David in spirit call Him Lord, saying, The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand?” And much as it was with Moses, so it was with David. For just as Miriam was punished by God for insulting her brother, even against Moses’ wishes, because He greatly loved that holy man, so too, when David was wronged by his son, God quickly avenged him, even against his wishes. These things are enough—indeed, more than anything else, they are enough—to show the man’s excellence. For when God gives His judgment, we should inquire no further. But if you want to know his self-control in detail, you can read his history after his sin and see his confidence toward God, his kindness, his growth in virtue, and his strict discipline to his last breath. 10. With these examples before us, then, let us be watchful and strive not to despair, and if we fall at any time, not to remain on the ground. For I spoke of David’s sins to awaken greater fear in you, not to make you careless. If that righteous man received such wounds through a little carelessness, what will we have to suffer, when we are negligent every day? So do not look at his fall and become careless, but consider the great things he did even afterward, how deeply he mourned, and how much repentance he showed: adding his nights to his days, pouring out fountains of tears, washing his couch with his tears, and clothing himself in sackcloth as well. Now, if he needed so great a change of heart, when will it be possible for us to be saved, when we remain unfeeling after so many sins? For someone who has many good deeds could easily use these to overshadow his sins; but someone who is unarmed receives a fatal wound wherever an arrow strikes him. So, to keep this from happening, let us arm ourselves with good works; and if we have committed any offense, let us wash it away, so that, after living this present life to God’s glory, we may be considered worthy to enjoy the life to come. May 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.