“And I myself am also convinced about you, my brothers, that you too are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, and able to admonish one another.” (So most: S. Chrys. “others.”) He had said, “Since I am the Apostle of the Gentiles, I honor my ministry.” (Rom. xi. 13.) He had said, “Be careful, or He may not spare you either.” (ib. 21.) He had said, “Do not be wise in your own eyes” (ib. xii. 16); and again, “Why do you judge your brother?” (ib. xiv. 10) And, “Who are you to judge another man’s servant?” (ib. 4.) And he had said several other things like these. Since he had often spoken somewhat harshly, he now speaks kindly (θεραπεύει). And he does at the end what he did at the beginning. At the beginning he said, “I thank my God for you all, because your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world.” (ib. i. 8.) But here he says, “I am convinced that you too are full of goodness, and able to admonish others”; and this goes further than the earlier statement. And he does not say, I have heard, but, “I am convinced,” and have no need to hear it from others. And, “I myself,” that is, I who rebuke you, who accuse you. The words “you are full of goodness” refer to the exhortation he has just given. It is as if he said, I did not give you that exhortation to welcome others, not neglect them, and not destroy “the work of God,” because I thought you were cruel or hated your brothers. For I know that “you are full of goodness.” But he seems to me here to be calling their virtue complete. And he does not say you have goodness, but “you are full of” it. What follows is equally emphatic: “filled with all knowledge.” For suppose they had been loving, but still did not know how to treat those they loved properly. That is why he added, “all knowledge. Able to admonish others,” not only to learn, but also to teach. Ver. 15. “Nevertheless, I have written to you more boldly in a way.” Notice Paul’s humility; notice his wisdom: how deeply he cut in the earlier part, and then, when he had achieved what he wanted, how kindly he speaks afterward. For even without what he has said, his very admission that he had been bold would be enough to defuse their anger. He does this when writing to the Hebrews too, saying, “But, dear friends, I am convinced of better things concerning you, things that belong to salvation, even though we speak this way.” (Heb. vi. 9.) And again to the Corinthians, “Now I praise you, brothers, because you remember me in everything and keep the ordinances as I delivered them to you.” (1 Cor. xi. 2.) And when writing to the Galatians he says, “I am confident in you, that you will think no differently.” (Gal. v. 10.) Throughout his Epistles one can frequently find him doing this. But here he does it even more. For they held a higher position, and their overly critical spirit needed to be brought down, with both astringents and laxatives. He does this in different ways. That is why he says here too, “I have written to you more boldly,” and even this does not satisfy him, but he adds, “in a way,” that is, gently. And he does not stop even here. What does he say? “To remind you.” And he does not say as teaching you, or simply reminding you, (ἀναμιμνήσκων) but uses a word (ἐπαναμιμνήσκων) that means reminding you gently. Notice how the ending matches the introduction. For just as he said in that passage, “Your faith is made known throughout the world” (Rom. i. 8.), so at the end of the Epistle he also says, “For your obedience has become known to everyone.” (ib. xvi. 19.) And just as at the beginning he wrote, “For I long to see you, so that I may share some spiritual gift with you, so that you may be strengthened; that is, that I may be encouraged together with you” (ib. i. 11, 12), so here too he said, “To remind you.” And having stepped down from the teacher’s chair, both there and here, he speaks to them as brothers and friends of equal standing. This is exactly a Teacher’s duty: to vary his way of speaking in whatever way benefits his listeners. See, then, how after saying, “I have written more boldly,” and, “in a way,” and, “to remind you,” he was still not satisfied, but made his language even humbler and continued: “Because of the grace given to me by God.” Just as he said at the beginning, “I am a debtor.” (Rom. i. 14.) It is as if he had said, I have not seized this honor for myself, nor was I the first to rush forward for it. God commanded this, and He did so by grace, not because He set me apart for this ministry as something I deserved. So do not be angry, since I am not the one elevating myself; God is the one commanding it. And just as he says there, “whom I serve in the Gospel of His Son” (ib. 9), so here too, after saying, “because of the grace given to me by God,” he adds, Ver. 16. “That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering (ἱερουργοὕντα) the Gospel of God.” For after giving ample proof of his statements, he takes a more elevated tone, speaking not simply of service, as at the beginning, but of service and priestly ministry (λειτουργίαν καί ὶερουργίαν). For to me this preaching and proclamation is a priesthood. This is the sacrifice I bring. Now no one will criticize a priest for being eager to offer a sacrifice without blemish. He says this both to lift up (πτερὥν) their thoughts and show them that they are a sacrifice, and to explain his own part in the matter, because he was appointed to this ministry. For my knife, he says, is the Gospel, the word of preaching. And the purpose is not for me to be glorified or to stand out, but that the “offering (προσφορὰ) of the Gentiles may be acceptable, sanctified by the Holy Spirit.” That is, that the souls of those I teach may be accepted. For God brought me to this position not so much to honor me as out of concern for you. And how are they to become acceptable? In the Holy Spirit. For faith alone is not enough; we also need a spiritual way of life, so that we may keep the Spirit who was given once for all. For it is not wood and fire, or altar and knife, but the Spirit who is everything in us. That is why I do everything I can to keep that Fire from going out, as I have also been commanded to do. Why, then, do you speak to people who do not need it? That is precisely why I am not teaching you, but reminding you, he replies. Just as the priest stands by stirring up the fire, so I stir up your willingness. And notice, he does not say, “that the offering of” you “may be,” and so on, but “of the Gentiles.” And when he says of the Gentiles, he means the whole world, the land and the whole sea, to bring down their pride, so that they would not consider it beneath them to have as their teacher someone who was extending himself (τεινόμενον) to the very ends of the world. As he said at the beginning, “as among the other Gentiles also, I am a debtor to Greeks and also to barbarians, to the wise and to the foolish.” (Rom. i. 13, 14, see p. 347.) Ver. 17. “Therefore I have reason to boast through Jesus Christ in things that concern God.” Since he had humbled himself so deeply, he raises his tone again, doing this too for their sake, so that he would not seem easy to despise. And while he raises himself, he remembers his characteristic disposition and says, “Therefore I have reason to boast.” I boast, he means, not in myself, not in our zeal, but in the “grace of God.” Ver. 18. “For I will not dare to speak of anything Christ has not accomplished through me to bring the Gentiles to obedience by word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God.” And no one, he means, can say that my words are empty boasting. For I have many signs of this priestly ministry of mine, and many proofs of my appointment as well. Not the long robe (ποδήρης) and the bells, as priests had in ancient times, nor the miter and the turban (κίδαρις), but signs and wonders, far more awe-inspiring than these. Nor can anyone say that I was entrusted with the task but failed to carry it out. Or rather, it was not I who carried it out, but Christ. That is also why I boast in Him, and about spiritual things, not ordinary ones. This is the force of “in things that concern God.” For the miracles and the obedience of the Gentiles show that I have accomplished the purpose for which I was sent, and that my words are not empty boasting. “For I will not dare to speak of anything Christ has not accomplished through me to bring the Gentiles to obedience by word and deed, through signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God.” See how forcefully he tries to show that everything is God’s doing, and nothing his own. For whether I say anything, or do anything, or work miracles, He does it all—the Holy Spirit does it all. He says this to show the dignity of the Holy Spirit too. See how these things are more wonderful and more awe-inspiring than the sacrifice, the offering, and the symbols of ancient times. For when he says, “in word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders,” he means the teaching, the way of thinking and living (φιλοσοφίαν) that concerns the Kingdom, the display of deeds and conduct, the dead who were raised, the demons who were cast out, the blind who were healed, the lame who leaped, and the other wonderful acts, all of which the Holy Spirit accomplished in us. Then the proof of these things (since all this is still only an assertion) is the great number of disciples. That is why he adds, “So that from Jerusalem, and all the way around to Illyricum, I have fully preached the Gospel of Christ.” Count up, then, the cities, places, nations, and peoples, not only those under Roman rule, but also those under barbarian rule. For I do not want you merely to travel in your mind all the way through Phoenicia and Syria, and the lands of the Cilicians and Cappadocians. Count up the regions beyond them too: the country of the Saracens, Persians, and Armenians, and that of the other savage nations. For this is why he said, “all the way around,” so that you would not simply follow the direct main road, but would cover the whole region in your mind, even the southern part of Asia. And just as he covered miracles as thick as snow in a single phrase, saying, “through mighty signs and wonders,” so again he has included countless cities, nations, peoples, and places in this one phrase, “all the way around.” For he was far from boasting at all. And he said this for their sake, so that they would not be conceited about themselves. At the beginning he said, “that I might have some fruit among you also, just as among other Gentiles.” But here he states the obligation imposed by his priesthood. For since he had spoken in a sharper tone, he also uses it to show his authority more clearly. This is why there he says only, “just as among other Gentiles.” But here he develops the subject fully, so that their conceit may be cut away on every side. And he does not simply say, preached the Gospel, but “have fully preached the Gospel of Christ.” Ver. 20. “Yes, I have made it my aim to preach the Gospel where Christ had not been named.” See here another distinction: he had not only preached the Gospel to so many and persuaded them, but he did not even go to those who had already become disciples. He was so far from forcing himself on other men’s disciples, and doing so for glory, that he even made a point of teaching those who had not heard. For he does not say where they had not been persuaded, but “where Christ had not even been named,” which goes further. And why did he have this ambition? “So that I would not build,” he says, “on another man’s foundation.” He says this to show that vanity has no place in him, and to teach them that he wrote not out of any love of glory or desire for honor from them, but to fulfill his ministry, carry out his priestly duty completely, and express his love for their salvation. But he calls the Apostles’ foundation “another man’s,” not because of the character of the person or the nature of the preaching, but because of the question of reward. For the preaching did not belong to another man, except insofar as it counted toward another man’s reward. For the reward for other people’s labors was, to him, another man’s. Then he shows that a prophecy was also fulfilled, saying, Ver. 21. “As it is written, Those to whom He was not spoken of will see, and those who have not heard will understand.” (Is. lii. 15 [LXX].) You see, he runs to where the work is harder and the toil greater. Ver. 22. “For this reason I have also often been prevented from coming to you.” Notice again how he makes the ending match the introduction. For right at the beginning of the Epistle he said, “I often planned to come to you, but have been prevented until now.” (Rom. i. 13.) But here he also gives the reason he was prevented, and not just once or twice, but many times. For just as he says there, “I often planned to come to you,” so here too, “I have been greatly (or often, τὰ πολλὰ) prevented from coming to you.” Now the fact that he tried so often proves how strong his desire was. Ver. 23. “But now, having no more room to work in these regions.” See how he shows that it was not out of any craving for glory from them that he both wrote and was coming. “And having had a great desire to come to you for these many years,” Ver. 24. “Whenever I make my journey to Spain, I hope to see you on my way, and to have you help me on my way there, if I have first been filled at least somewhat by spending time with you,” For to avoid seeming to think very little of them, as though he were saying, Since I have nothing to do, I am therefore coming to you, he again touches on his love by saying, “I have had a great desire for these many years to come to you.” For the reason I want to come is not that I have nothing to do, but that I may give birth to the desire with which I have been in labor for so long. Then, so that this in turn would not puff them up, consider how he brings them down by saying, “Whenever I make my journey to Spain, I hope to see you on my way.” He said this to keep them from becoming proud. For he wants to show his love while also keeping them from becoming demanding. And so he places one statement right beside the other, alternating between things that reinforce each point. Again, so that they would not say, Are we just an incidental stop on your journey? he adds, “and to have you help me on my way there”: that is, so that you may be my witnesses that I am passing through because necessity compels me, without any intention of slighting you. But since this is still distressing, he soothes it more carefully by saying, “If I have first been filled at least somewhat by spending time with you.” For by saying, “on my way,” he shows that he did not crave their good opinion. But by saying “be filled,” he shows that he was eager for their love, and not only eager, but intensely so. That is why he does not simply say “be filled,” but “somewhat” filled. That is, no length of time can fill me or make me feel I have had enough time with you. See how he shows his love, when even though he is in a hurry, he does not get up to leave until he is filled. And his warm language is a sign of his great affection. For he does not even say I will see you, but “will be filled,” imitating the language of parents. And at the beginning he said, “that I might have some fruit.” (Rom. i. 13.) But here, that I may be “filled.” Both expressions are those of someone drawing others to himself. For the first was very high praise for them, if they were likely to bear fruit for him through their obedience; and the second was a true proof of his own friendship. And when writing to the Corinthians he says in the same way, “So that you may send me on my journey wherever I go” (1 Cor. xvi. 6), showing in every way an unequaled love for his disciples. And so at the beginning of all his Epistles he starts with this, and at the end he closes with it again. For he loved all the faithful as a tender father loves his only legitimate son. That is why he said, “Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is caused to stumble, and I do not burn?” (2 Cor. xi. 29.) For above everything else, this is what the teacher must have. That is also why Christ says to Peter, “If you love Me, feed My sheep.” (John xxi. 16.) For anyone who loves Christ also loves His flock. And He placed Moses over the Jewish people only after Moses had shown kindness toward them. David likewise became king after first showing his affection for them. Indeed, although he was still young, he cared so deeply for the people that he risked his life for them when he killed that barbarian. But if he said, “What will be done for the man who kills this Philistine?” (1 Sam. xix. 5; ib. xvii. 26), he said it not to demand a reward, but because he wanted them to put their confidence in him and entrust him with the fight. That is why, when he came to the king after the victory, he said nothing about these things. Samuel too was very loving; that is why he said, “But may God keep me from sinning by ceasing to pray to the Lord for you.” (1 Sam. xii. 23.) In the same way Paul too—or rather, not in the same way, but to a far greater degree—burned with love for all those under his care (τὥν ἀρχομένων). That is why he inspired such affection for himself in his disciples that he said, “If it had been possible, you would have torn out your eyes and given them to me.” (Gal. iv. 15.) This is also why God charges the teachers of the Jews with this above all, saying, “O shepherds of Israel, do shepherds feed themselves? Do they not feed the flock?” (Ezek. xxxiv. 2, 3.) But they did the opposite. For he says, “You eat the milk and clothe yourselves with the wool, and you kill the well-fed animals, but you do not feed the flock.” And Christ, in setting out the standard for the best Pastor, said, “The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.” (John x. 11.) David did this too, both on various other occasions and when that terrible anger from above came down on the whole people. For while everyone was being killed, he said, “I, the shepherd, have sinned; I, the shepherd, have done wrong. But these, the flock—what have they done?” (2 Sam. xxiv. 17.) And so, when choosing among those punishments, he chose neither famine nor flight before enemies, but the plague sent by God. By this he hoped to keep everyone else safe, while he himself would be carried off before all the rest. But since this did not happen, he mourns and says, “Let Your Hand be on me,” or, if this is not enough, “on my father’s house” too. “For I,” he says, “the shepherd, have sinned.” It is as though he had said that even if they too sinned, I was the one who should suffer the punishment, since I did not correct them. But since the sin is also mine, I am the one who deserves to suffer the punishment. For he used the title “Shepherd” to emphasize the gravity of his crime. This is how he stopped the anger; this is how he had the sentence revoked! Confession has such great power. “For the righteous person is the first to accuse himself.” A good Pastor has such great concern and compassion. For his insides twisted in anguish as they fell, as when someone’s own children are killed. That is why he begged for the anger to fall on himself. He would have done this at the beginning of the slaughter, except that he saw it advancing and expected it to reach him. So when he saw that this did not happen, but that the disaster was raging among them, he could hold back no longer. He was more deeply moved than he had been for Amnon, his firstborn. For then he did not ask to die, but now he begs to fall before the others. This is how a ruler ought to be, grieving more over the disasters of others than his own. He felt something like this in his son’s case too, so that you might see that he did not love his son more than his subjects. And yet the young man was unchaste and abused his father (πατραλοίας), and still he said, “If only I could have died for you!” (2 Sam. xviii. 33.) What are you saying, blessed man, gentlest of all men? Your son was intent on killing you and surrounded you with countless troubles. And when he has been removed and the trophy of victory raised, do you then pray to be killed? Yes, he says, for the army has not won a victory for me. Instead, I am under fiercer attack than before, and my insides are now more torn than before. All these men, however, cared for those entrusted to them, but blessed Abraham was deeply concerned even for those who had not been entrusted to him, so much so that he even threw himself into terrifying dangers. For when he acted as he did, not only for his nephew but also for the people of Sodom, he did not stop driving those Persians before him until he had freed them all. And yet he could have left after rescuing his nephew, but chose not to. For he had the same concern for everyone, and he showed this again in his later conduct. Then, when it was not an army of barbarians about to besiege them, but God’s anger tearing their cities up from their foundations, and it was no longer a time for weapons, battle, and military formations, but for pleading, he showed as much zeal for them as if he himself were about to perish. That is why he comes to God once, twice, three times, indeed many times, and takes refuge (i.e. an excuse) in his own nature, saying, “I am dust and ashes” (Gen. xviii. 27). And since he saw that they were betraying themselves, he begs that they may be saved for the sake of others. That is also why God said, “I will not hide from Abraham My servant what I am about to do” (ib. 17), so that we might learn how loving toward humanity the righteous person is. And he would not have stopped pleading unless God had stopped first (so he takes v. 33). He seems to be praying for the righteous, but he is doing it all for those people. For the souls of the Saints are very gentle and loving toward humanity, both toward their own people and toward strangers. They even extend their gentleness to creatures without reason. That is why a certain wise man said, “The righteous person has compassion on the souls of his cattle.” But if he has compassion on the souls of cattle, how much more on those of human beings. But since I have mentioned cattle, let us consider the shepherds of the sheep in Cappadocia, and the kinds of suffering they endure, and how much, in caring for creatures without reason. They often spend three days at a time buried under the snow. And those in Libya are said to endure hardships no less severe, wandering for whole months through that wilderness, desolate as it is and filled with the most terrifying wild beasts (θηρία may include serpents). Now if there is so much zeal for creatures without reason, what defense can we offer, when we are entrusted with rational souls and yet remain sunk in this deep sleep? For is it right to rest and live quietly, instead of running everywhere and giving ourselves up to endless deaths for these sheep? Or do you not know the dignity of this flock? Was it not for this flock that your Master endured endless suffering and afterward poured out His blood? And you seek rest? Now what could be worse than these Shepherds? Do you not realize that wolves far fiercer and more savage than those of this world stand around these sheep? Do you not consider what kind of soul someone must have to take on this office? Now those who lead the people, even if they have only ordinary matters to deliberate on, stay awake through days and nights. And we, who are struggling for heaven’s sake, sleep even in the daytime. Who, then, will deliver us from punishment for these things? For if your body had to be cut to pieces, if you had to undergo ten thousand deaths, shouldn’t you run toward it as you would toward a feast? And let not only the shepherds but also the sheep hear this, so that they may make the shepherds more energetic and encourage their goodwill all the more. I mean that they should do this by showing complete compliance and obedience. Paul too commanded them in this way, saying, “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who must give an account.” (Heb. xiii. 17.) And when he says, “keep watch,” he means thousands of labors, cares, and dangers. For the good Shepherd, the kind Christ wants, struggles before countless witnesses. For He died once for him, but this man dies ten thousand times for the flock, if, that is, he is the kind of shepherd he ought to be. For such a person can die every day. (See on Rom. viii. 36. p. 456.) And so, since you know what the work involves, cooperate with them through prayers, zeal, willingness, and affection, so that we may have reason to boast about you, and you about us. For this is why He entrusted this task to the chief of the Apostles, who also loved Him more than the rest, after first asking him whether he loved Him: so that you may learn that this, above other things, is regarded as proof of love for Him. For this requires a vigorous soul. I have said this about the best shepherds, not about myself and those of our day, but about anyone who might be like Paul, like Peter, like Moses. Let us, then, imitate them, both those of us who lead and those who are led. For a person who is led can act as a shepherd to his family, his friends, his servants, his wife, and his children. And if we arrange our affairs this way, we will attain every kind of good thing. May God grant that we may all attain them, through grace and love toward humanity, etc.
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