Homilies on Matthew, Homily 4

“So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations, and from David until the exile to Babylon are fourteen generations, and from the exile to Babylon to Christ are fourteen generations.” He has divided all the generations into three parts to show that even when their form of government changed, they did not become better. Under an aristocracy, a king, and an oligarchy alike, they continued in the same evil ways. Whether popular leaders, priests, or kings governed them, it did nothing to help them become virtuous. But why has he left out three kings in the middle section, and in the last section listed twelve generations while declaring that there are fourteen? I leave the first question for you to examine, since I do not need to explain everything to you, or you might become lazy. But we will explain the second. It seems to me that here he counts both the period of captivity and Christ Himself as a generation, connecting Him with us in every possible way. And he is quite right to remind us of that captivity, showing that even when they went down there, they did not become more sober-minded, so that everything may show how necessary His coming was. “Why, then,” someone may ask, “does Mark not do this or trace Christ’s genealogy, but say everything briefly?” It seems to me that Matthew was the first to take up the subject (which is why he both records the genealogy precisely and pauses over matters that require it), while Mark came after him. That is why Mark took a shorter route, working with what had already been said and made clear. How is it, then, that Luke not only traces the genealogy but includes more generations? Naturally, since Matthew had led the way, Luke seeks to teach us something beyond what had already been said. Each also followed his master in the same way: one followed Paul, who flows more abundantly than any river; the other followed Peter, who aims for brevity. 2. And why did Matthew not begin as the prophet did, with “the vision which I saw” and “the word which came to me”? Because he was writing to people who were receptive and paid very close attention to him. Both the miracles that had been done spoke loudly, and those who received the word were deeply faithful. But the prophets did not have so many miracles to proclaim their authority. Besides, a sizable band of false prophets was noisily intruding on them, and the Jewish people paid even more attention to these. That kind of opening was therefore necessary for the prophets. And whenever miracles were done, they were done for the sake of foreigners, to increase the number of converts, and to reveal God’s power, in case their enemies, after taking them captive, imagined that they had prevailed because their own gods were mighty. This happened in Egypt, from which a sizable “mixed multitude” went up, and afterward in Babylon, in the events involving the furnace and the dreams. Miracles were also performed when they were by themselves in the wilderness, as happened in our case too. Among us also, when we had just come out of error, many wonderful works were displayed. But afterward they stopped, once true religion had taken root in every country. The miracles that occurred later were few and far between: for example, when the sun stood still in its course and moved backward in the opposite direction. We can see that this has happened in our case too. Even in our generation, in the case of the man who surpassed everyone in ungodliness—I mean Julian—many strange things happened. When the Jews tried to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem, fire burst out of the foundations and completely stopped them all. And when both his treasurer and his uncle, who shared his name, openly insulted the sacred vessels, one was “eaten by worms and breathed his last,” and the other “burst open in the middle.” Moreover, the springs drying up when sacrifices were offered there, and famine entering the cities along with the emperor himself, were a very great sign. For God commonly acts in this way: when evils multiply, and He sees His own people afflicted and their enemies thoroughly intoxicated by their power over them, He displays His own power. He also did this in Persia on behalf of the Jews. 3. What has been said makes it clear that he did not divide Christ’s ancestors into three parts without a purpose or at random. Notice, too, where he begins and where he ends: from Abraham to David, from David to the captivity in Babylon, and from there to Christ Himself. At the beginning he placed David and Abraham close together, and in his final count he again mentions both in the same way. This is because, as I have already said, the promises were made to them. But why, when he mentioned the captivity in Babylon, did he not also mention the descent into Egypt? Because they had stopped being afraid of the Egyptians, but they still dreaded the Babylonians. One event was ancient, while the other was fresh and had happened recently. And they were taken down to one place for no sins, while their transgressions caused their removal to the other. And if someone tried to translate the meanings of the names themselves, even these would provide a great deal to contemplate about divine things, including matters very important to the New Testament: for example, the names of Abraham, Jacob, Solomon, and Zerubbabel. These names were not given to them without a purpose. But to avoid wearing you out by going on at great length, let us pass over these things and move on to what is pressing. 4. After mentioning all His ancestors and ending with Joseph, he did not stop there but added, “Joseph the husband of Mary,” indicating that he traced Joseph’s genealogy for her sake as well. Then, so that hearing “the husband of Mary” would not lead you to suppose that Christ was born according to the ordinary law of nature, notice how he corrects that impression with what follows. “You have heard,” he says, “of a husband; you have heard of a mother; you have heard a name given to the child. So hear how the birth took place as well.” “The birth of Jesus Christ happened in this way.” “Tell me, what kind of birth are you describing, since you have already mentioned His ancestors?” “I still want to tell you how His birth took place.” Do you see how he awakens the listener’s attention? As though he were about to speak of something unusual, he promises to explain how it happened as well. And notice the admirable order of the things he has mentioned. He did not go straight to the birth but first reminds us how many generations separated Him from Abraham, from David, and from the captivity in Babylon. In this way he prompts the attentive listener to consider the dates, to show that this is the Christ whom the prophets proclaimed. Once you have counted the generations and learned from the timing that this is He, you will readily accept the miracle that took place at His birth as well. So, as he is about to tell of something great—His birth from a virgin—he first veils the statement by speaking of “a husband of Mary,” until he has counted the generations. Or rather, he even gives a brief account of the birth itself and then goes on to count the years as well, reminding the listener that this is He of whom the patriarch Jacob said that He would finally come when the Jewish rulers had come to an end, and of whom the prophet Daniel foretold that He would come after those many weeks. And if someone counts the years that the angel spoke of to Daniel as a number of weeks, tracing the time from the building of the city to His birth, the calculation will show that the two agree. 5. How, then, was He born, please tell me? “When His mother Mary was engaged”: he does not say “virgin,” but simply “mother,” so that his account is easy to accept. Having first prepared the listener to expect some ordinary information, and having caught his attention in this way, he finally amazes him by adding the marvelous fact: “Before they came together, she was found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit.” He does not say, “before she was brought to the bridegroom’s house,” because she was already there. The ancients usually kept their engaged wives in their homes, at least in those regions where the same practice can still be seen today. Lot’s sons-in-law were likewise in his house with him. Mary herself, then, was also in the house with Joseph. And why did she not conceive before her engagement? As I said at the beginning, it was so that what had happened could be concealed for a while and the Virgin could escape every shameful suspicion. For the man who had the greatest right to be jealous, far from exposing or disgracing her, is found welcoming and caring for her even after she conceived. It was therefore quite clear that unless he had become fully convinced that what had happened was the work of the Holy Spirit, he would not have kept her with him and attended to all her other needs. And he was quite right to say that she was “‘found’ to be pregnant,” the kind of expression commonly used for strange things that happen beyond all expectation and are unforeseen. Go no further, then, and demand nothing beyond what has been said. Do not ask, “But how did the Spirit accomplish this in a virgin?” For if we cannot explain how a child is formed when nature is at work, how can we describe these things when the Spirit is working miracles? And to keep you from wearing out the evangelist or troubling him by continually asking these questions, he has said who worked the miracle and then stepped back. “For I know nothing more,” he says, “except that what happened was the work of the Holy Spirit.” 6. Shame on those who pry into the generation on high. For if no one can explain this birth, which has countless witnesses, was proclaimed so long beforehand, and was revealed and touched by human hands, what extreme of madness have those who busily pry into that unspeakable generation not reached? Neither Gabriel nor Matthew could say anything more than that it was of the Spirit. Neither explained how it was of the Spirit or in what manner, because that was impossible. And do not think you have learned everything by hearing “of the Spirit.” Even after learning this, we remain ignorant of many things: for example, how the Infinite is in a womb; how He who contains all things is carried unborn by a woman; how the Virgin gives birth and remains a virgin. How, please tell me, did the Spirit form that Temple? How did He take only part of the flesh from the womb, rather than all of it, and make it grow and give it shape? For He declared that He did come from the Virgin’s flesh by speaking of “that which was conceived in her,” and Paul did so by saying, “made of a woman.” By this he silences those who say that Christ came among us as though through a conduit. For if that were so, what need was there for the womb? If that were so, He has nothing in common with us, but that flesh is of a different kind, not from the substance to which we belong. How, then, was He from the root of Jesse? How was He a rod? How was He Son of man? How was Mary His mother? How was He from David’s seed? How did He “take the form of a servant”? How “was the Word made flesh”? And how does Paul say to the Romans, “From whom, as far as the flesh is concerned, Christ came, who is God over all”? These things, and others besides, make it clear that He was from us, of our substance, and from the Virgin’s womb. But how this happened is not clear. So do not probe into it either. Accept what is revealed, and do not pry into what is kept secret. 7. “And Joseph her husband,” he says, “being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, intended to send her away privately.” After saying that it was of the Holy Spirit and without sexual relations, he establishes his statement in yet another way. Someone might say, “What evidence is there for this? Who has ever heard or seen anything like this happen?” Or you might suspect that the disciple invented these things to favor his Master. To prevent this, he introduces Joseph, whose experience helps prove what has been said. His account all but says, “If you doubt me and suspect my testimony, believe her husband.” For “Joseph,” he says, “her husband, being a righteous man.” By “a righteous man” here he means someone virtuous in every respect. Freedom from greed is righteousness, and virtue as a whole is also righteousness. Scripture generally uses the word “righteousness” in this latter sense, as when it says, “a man who was righteous and true,” and again, “they were both righteous.” Being “righteous,” then—that is, good and considerate—“he intended to send her away privately.” This is why he tells us what happened before Joseph was fully informed: so that you would not distrust what he did after he knew. Yet a woman in such a situation was liable to more than public disgrace; the law commanded that she also be punished. Joseph, however, spared her both the greater punishment and the lesser one, disgrace. Far from punishing her, he did not even intend to expose her publicly. Do you see a man who controls himself and is free from the most tyrannical of passions? You know how powerful jealousy is. That is why He who knows these things clearly said, “For a husband’s rage is full of jealousy”; “he will not spare on the day of vengeance”; and “jealousy is cruel as the grave.” We too know of many who have chosen to give up their lives rather than come under jealous suspicion. But here there was more than suspicion: her pregnancy completely convicted her. Nevertheless, he was so free from passion that he was unwilling to distress the Virgin even in the smallest matters. Keeping her in his house seemed to violate the law, while exposing her and bringing her to trial would force him to hand her over to death. He does neither, but now acts by a rule higher than the law. For now that grace had come, there had to be many signs of that exalted citizenship from then on. Just as the sun, even before it shows its rays, lights up more than half the world from a distance, so Christ, as He was about to rise from that womb, shone over the whole world even before He came forth. That is why, even before her labor, prophets danced for joy, women foretold what was to come, and John, before he had emerged from the belly, leaped within the womb itself. That is also why this man showed such great self-control: he neither accused nor reproached her, but simply set about sending her away. 8. With matters in this state, and everyone at a loss, the angel comes to resolve all their difficulties. But it is worth asking why the angel did not speak sooner, before the husband had these thoughts. Only “when he thought about it” did he come, for it says, “While he thought about these things, the angel” comes. Yet to her he announces the good news even before she conceived. And this raises another difficulty: even if the angel had not spoken, why did the Virgin, who had been informed by the angel, remain silent? When she saw her betrothed husband troubled, why did she not end his confusion? Why, then, did the angel not speak before Joseph became troubled? We must explain the first difficulty first. Why did he not speak? So that Joseph would not disbelieve and have the same thing happen to him as happened to Zechariah. Once the pregnancy was visible, belief became easy. But before it had even begun, his message was not as easy to accept. This is why the angel did not speak at first, and why the Virgin also remained silent. She did not think her betrothed husband would believe her if she told him something unheard of. Rather, she thought she would provoke him even more, as though she were concealing a sin she had committed. For if she herself, who was to receive so great a favor, reacts in a somewhat human way and says, “How will this be, since I have not had sexual relations with a man?” he would have doubted much more, especially when hearing it from the woman under suspicion. So the Virgin says nothing to him, but the angel appears to him when the time calls for it. 9. Why, someone may ask, did he not do the same in the Virgin’s case and announce the good news to her after the conception? To keep her from becoming agitated and deeply distressed. For without knowing the truth, she might well have planned something harmful to herself and gone so far as to hang or stab herself, unable to bear the disgrace. This Virgin was indeed remarkable, and Luke points out her excellence when he says that on hearing the greeting, she did not immediately give vent to her feelings or accept what was said, but “was troubled,” wondering “what kind of greeting this might be.” A woman with such perfect sensitivity would have been overwhelmed with dismay at the thought of her shame. She would not expect anything she said to convince anyone who heard about it that what had happened was anything other than adultery. To prevent these things, the angel came before the conception. Besides, it was fitting that the womb which the Maker of all things entered should be free from trouble, and that the soul considered worthy to serve such mysteries should be free from all disturbance. For these reasons He speaks to the Virgin before the conception, but to Joseph at the time of labor. Many less discerning people, failing to understand this, have said there is a contradiction because Luke says that he announced the good news to Mary, while Matthew says it was to Joseph. They do not know that both happened. We need to keep this sort of thing in mind throughout the whole history, for in this way we will resolve many apparent contradictions. 10. The angel, then, comes when Joseph is troubled. Besides the reasons already mentioned, he also delays his coming to reveal Joseph’s self-control. But when the action was about to take place, he finally appears. “While he thought about these things, an angel appears to Joseph in a dream.” Do you see the husband’s gentleness? Far from punishing her, he did not even tell anyone—not even the woman he suspected—but considered it privately, intending to conceal the reason even from the Virgin herself. It does not say that he intended to “throw her out,” but to “send her away,” because he was so gentle and kind. “But while he is thinking about these things, the angel appears in a dream.” And why not openly, as he appeared to the shepherds, to Zechariah, and to the Virgin? The man was full of faith and did not need that vision. But the Virgin needed a marvelous vision as well, since the good news announced to her was extraordinarily great, greater than what was announced to Zechariah, and came before the event. The shepherds needed it because they were rather dull and uncultured by disposition. But this man, after the conception, when his soul was gripped by that dreadful suspicion and ready to exchange it for good hopes if someone appeared to guide him that way, readily accepts the revelation. So the good news is announced to him after his suspicion, so that this very circumstance might give him convincing proof of what was said. I mean that he had mentioned it to no one, yet heard the angel say the very things he was thinking in his mind. This gave him an unmistakable sign that someone had come from God to say it, since knowing the secrets of the heart belongs to Him alone. Just notice how many results follow here. The man’s self-control is fully revealed; the timely message strengthens his faith; and the history is freed from suspicion by showing that he felt what a husband would naturally feel. 10. How, then, does the angel reassure him? Listen and marvel at the wisdom of his words. When he comes, he says, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.” He immediately reminds him of David, from whom the Christ was to descend. By naming his ancestors, he keeps him from being deeply disturbed, reminding him of the promise made to the whole race. Otherwise, why call him “Son of David”? “Do not be afraid”: yet in another case God does not act this way. When someone was planning something improper concerning a certain woman, He spoke more reproachfully and threatened him. Even there, the act was done in ignorance, since that man did not knowingly take Sarah. Nevertheless, He rebuked him, while here He speaks gently. For the mysteries He was bringing about were exceedingly great, and the difference between the two men was vast. So there was no need for rebuke. But by saying, “Do not be afraid,” he indicates that Joseph had been afraid of offending God by keeping an adulteress, since otherwise he would not even have thought of throwing her out. In every way, then, he shows that the angel came from God, bringing forward and setting before Joseph everything: both what he intended to do and what he felt in his mind. After mentioning her name, he did not stop there but added, “your wife.” He would not have called her that if she had been defiled. Here he calls an engaged woman “a wife,” just as Scripture commonly calls betrothed husbands sons-in-law even before marriage. But what does “take into your home” mean? To keep her in his house, since in his intention he had already sent her away. “Keep her whom you have sent away,” he says, “as someone entrusted to you by God, not by her parents. He entrusts her to you to live with you, rather than for marriage, and He entrusts her through my voice.” Just as Christ Himself later entrusted her to His disciple, so He now entrusts her to Joseph. 12. Then, after hinting at the matter at hand, he did not mention the shameful suspicion. Instead, in a more reverent and fitting way, he removed it too by explaining the cause of her pregnancy. He implies that the very thing which had frightened Joseph, and for which he would have thrown her out—this very thing, I say—was a proper reason to take her in and keep her in his house. In this way he more than completely removes his distress. “For she is not only free from unlawful intercourse,” he says, “but her conception is even beyond all nature. So do not merely put away your fear, but rejoice all the more, ‘for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.’” What he spoke of was strange, beyond human reason and above all the laws of nature. How, then, is someone to believe when such news is entirely new to him? “Through what has already happened,” he says, “through the revelations.” This is why he disclosed everything in Joseph’s mind: what he felt, what he feared, and what he had decided to do, so that these things would assure him of this point. Or rather, he wins him over through future things as well as past ones. “And she will give birth,” he says, “to a Son, and you will name Him Jesus.” “Because He is of the Holy Spirit, do not imagine that you have no part in serving this divine plan. Although you have no part in the birth, and the Virgin remained untouched, I nevertheless give you a father’s role that does no harm to the honor of virginity: to give a Name to the child who is born. For ‘you will name Him.’ Although the offspring is not yours, you will show Him a father’s care. So from the very act of giving the name, I immediately connect you with Him who is born.” Then, so that no one would infer from this that Joseph was the father, listen to what follows and how precisely he states it. “She will give birth,” he says, “to a Son.” He does not say, “give birth to a Son for you,” but simply, “she will give birth,” leaving it unrestricted, since she gave birth for the whole world, not for him. 13. This is also why the angel came bringing His name from Heaven, indicating again that this is a wondrous birth: God Himself sends the name from above through the angel to Joseph. This too had a purpose: it was a treasure of ten thousand blessings. So the angel also explains its meaning and offers good hopes, leading him to belief in this way as well. For we are usually more drawn to such things and therefore more eager to believe them. Having established his faith through everything—the past, the future, the present, and the honor given to Joseph himself—he also brings in the prophet at the right moment to add his testimony in support of all this. But before introducing him, he announces the good things that would come to the world through Him. And what are they? Sins removed and destroyed. “For He will save His people from their sins.” Here again the event is shown to be beyond all expectation. He announces the good news of deliverance, not from visible wars or barbarians, but from something far greater than these: sins. This was a work that no one had ever been able to accomplish before. But why, someone may ask, did he say “His people” without adding the Gentiles as well? So that he would not startle the listener just yet. For to anyone listening with understanding, he also hinted at the Gentiles. “His people” are not only the Jews, but also everyone who draws near and receives the knowledge that comes from Him. And notice how, along the way, he has also revealed His dignity to us by calling the Jewish nation “His people.” These words imply nothing less than that He who is born is God’s child, and that the one he is speaking of is the King of those on high. Nor does forgiving sins belong to any other power, but only to that one essence. 14. Since we have received so great a gift, let us do everything we can to avoid dishonoring such a blessing. For if our actions deserved punishment even before this honor, they deserve it much more now, after this indescribable blessing. I am not saying this without a reason, but because I see many people living more carelessly after baptism than the uninitiated, with nothing distinctive in their way of life. This is why, whether in the marketplace or in the Church, it is impossible to tell at a glance who is a believer and who is an unbeliever, unless you are present at the mysteries and see one group sent out while the other remains inside. Yet they ought to be distinguished by their way of life rather than their location. Just as people’s outward ranks are naturally recognized by the outward signs they wear, ours ought to be recognized by the soul. That is, the believer ought to be evident through the new life as well as the gift. The believer ought to be the light and salt of the world. But when you do not even give light to yourself or bind up your own gangrene, what is left by which we can recognize you? That you have entered the holy waters? No, that becomes a stockpile of punishment for you. For the greater the honor, the greater the punishment for those who choose not to live up to it. Yes, the believer ought to shine through his own contribution as well as through what he has received from God. He should be recognizable in everything: his walk, his look, his clothing, and his voice. I say this so that we shape ourselves with the benefit of those who see us as our guide, rather than a desire to show off. 15. But now, whatever I might use to recognize you, I find you distinguished in every respect by its opposite. If I try to identify you by where you spend your time, I see you passing your day at horse races, theaters, and scenes of lawlessness, in wicked gatherings in the marketplaces and in the company of depraved men. If I look at your expression, I see you constantly laughing to excess, as dissolute as a grinning, shameless prostitute. If I look at your clothes, I see you dressed no better than the people on the stage. If I look at your followers, you lead around parasites and flatterers. If I listen to your words, I hear nothing wholesome, nothing necessary, nothing important for our life. And if I look at your table, the charge against you becomes even heavier. Tell me, then, how am I to recognize the believer in you when everything I have mentioned gives the opposite verdict? And why do I say “the believer,” when I cannot even clearly make out whether you are human? When you kick like a donkey, behave lustfully like a bull, and neigh after women like a horse; when you gorge yourself like a bear, pamper your flesh like a mule, and hold grudges like a camel; when you prey like a wolf, rage like a serpent, sting like a scorpion, scheme like a fox, store up the poison of wickedness like an asp or a viper, and wage war against your brothers like that evil demon—how can I count you among human beings when I do not see in you the marks of human nature? Why, while I am looking for the difference between a catechumen and a believer, I nearly fail to find even the difference between a human being and a wild beast. What should I call you? A wild beast? No, each wild beast has one of these faults, but you pile them all together and far surpass their brutality. Should I call you a demon, then? No, a demon is not enslaved to his belly, nor does he set his love on riches. When you have more faults than either wild beasts or demons, how, please tell me, are we to call you human? And if you cannot be called human, how can we address you as a believer? 16. What is even more distressing is that, in such an evil condition, we have no idea at all how deformed our own soul is and do not recognize its ugliness. Yet when you sit at a hairdresser’s getting your hair cut, you take the mirror and carefully inspect the arrangement of your hair. You ask the people standing nearby and the barber himself whether he has arranged the hair over your forehead properly. And though you are old, as is often the case, you are not ashamed to run wild with youthful whims. Meanwhile, we have not even the slightest awareness of our own soul, which is not merely deformed but transformed into a wild beast, made into a kind of Scylla or Chimera from pagan mythology. Yet here too there is a mirror, a spiritual one, far better and more useful than the other. It not only shows our deformity but also transforms it, if we are willing, into surpassing beauty. This mirror is the remembrance of good men and the history of their blessed lives, the reading of the Scriptures, and the laws given by God. If you are willing to look even once at the portraits of those holy men, you will see the ugliness of your own mind, and once you have seen it, you will need nothing else to be freed from that deformity. For the mirror is useful for this purpose too and makes the change easy. So let no one remain in the form of irrational creatures. For if the slave does not enter the father’s house, how will you, having become even a wild beast, be able to set foot inside those entrance halls? And why do I say “a wild beast”? Such a person is more unmanageable than any wild beast. For although they are savage by nature, they often become tame when they benefit from human skill. But you, who have changed their natural wildness into a gentleness contrary to their nature, what defense will you have when you have trained your own natural gentleness into a savagery contrary to nature? When you make what is naturally wild behave gently, but present yourself, naturally so gentle, as unnaturally savage? You tame the lion and make it manageable, but you make your own anger wilder than any lion. Yet in the lion’s case there are two obstacles: first, the beast lacks reason, and second, it is the most furious of all creatures. Nevertheless, through the excellence of the wisdom God has given you, you overcome even nature. You, then, who conquer nature itself in wild beasts, how is it that in your own case you surrender both your nature and your admirable gift of free will? Furthermore, if I were telling you to make another person gentle, even then I should not seem to be commanding the impossible. Still, you might object that you do not control another person’s disposition and that it does not depend entirely on you. But now it is your own wild beast, something that depends entirely on you. What defense do you have, then? What reasonable excuse can you offer, when you turn a lion into a human being but ignore the fact that you yourself are changing from a human being into a lion? You give the beast something beyond its nature, yet fail even to preserve what is natural in yourself. Yes, while your earnest efforts raise wild beasts to our noble condition, you yourself fall from the royal throne and are thrust into their madness. So, if you like, imagine your anger as a kind of wild beast. Show as much zeal toward yourself as others have shown toward lions, and make that disposition gentle and meek. For it too has terrible teeth and claws, and unless you tame it, it will lay everything waste. Neither lion nor serpent has such power to tear the vital organs as anger, which continually does so with its iron claws. We see that it damages not only the body; it also ruins the soul’s very health, devouring, ripping, and tearing apart all its strength and making it useless for everything. For if someone harboring worms in his intestines cannot even breathe as his internal organs waste away, how can we, with such a large serpent eating up everything within us (I mean anger), how, I say, can we produce anything noble? 17. How, then, can we be freed from this plague? By drinking a potion capable of killing the worms and serpents within us. “And what kind of potion,” someone will ask, “has such power?” The precious Blood of Christ, if received with full confidence (for this will have the power to extinguish every disease), and along with it, attentive listening to the divine Scriptures and almsgiving added to our listening. Through all these things we will be able to put to death the passions that damage our soul. Only then will we live, for now we are surely no better off than the dead. It is impossible for us to live while those passions live as well; we must inevitably perish. And unless we first kill them here, they will certainly kill us in the other life. Or rather, even before that death, they will exact the utmost penalty from us here. Yes, every such passion is cruel, tyrannical, and insatiable, and never stops devouring us day after day. For “their teeth are the teeth of a lion,” or rather, far fiercer still. A lion, as soon as it is satisfied, usually leaves the carcass it has come upon. But these passions are neither satisfied nor willing to leave the person they have seized until they have brought him close to the devil. Their power is so great that they demand from those they seize the very same service Paul showed Christ when he scorned both hell and the kingdom for His sake. For anyone entangled in love of women, riches, or glory thereafter laughs at hell and despises the kingdom in order to do their will. So let us not doubt Paul when he says that he loved Christ so much. When some people are found serving their passions this way, how can his service then seem incredible? Indeed, this is why our longing for Christ is weaker: all our strength is spent on this other love, and we rob, defraud, and become slaves to the craving for empty praise. What could be more worthless than that? For even if you become infinitely famous, you will be no better than the morally corrupt; rather, for this very reason you will be even more corrupt. When the people willing to give you glory and make you famous ridicule you for the very fact that you desire the glory they give, how can such efforts fail to have the opposite effect on you? This desire is itself something that attracts criticism. If someone praises or flatters a person who wants to commit adultery or engage in sexual immorality, by that very act he accuses rather than commends the person who harbors such desires. So too with someone who desires glory: when we all praise him, what we give those who want to be glorified is accusation rather than praise. 18. Why, then, bring on yourself something that usually produces the very opposite result? Yes, if you want to be glorified, despise glory, and you will become more illustrious than anyone. Why feel as Nebuchadnezzar did? He too set up an image, thinking that wood and a senseless figure would increase his fame. A living man wanted to appear more glorious through the help of something lifeless. Do you see how extreme his madness was, how in thinking to honor himself he instead insulted himself? When he appears to rely on a lifeless thing rather than on himself and the soul living in him, and for this reason gives the block of wood such a high place of honor, how can he be anything but ridiculous, trying to adorn himself with wooden planks rather than his way of life? It is just as if a man thought he should put on airs because of his house’s flooring and beautiful staircase rather than because he is a human being. Many among us imitate him now. Just as he expected admiration for his image, some people expect it for their clothes, others for their house, their mules and chariots, or the columns in their home. Having lost their humanity, they go around gathering glory from other sources, glory that is utterly ridiculous. But God’s noble and great servants shone through means that suited them best, rather than through these things. Though captives, slaves, youths, foreigners, and stripped of all resources of their own, they proved far more awe-inspiring at that time than the man surrounded by all these advantages. Nebuchadnezzar found that neither so great an image, nor satraps, army commanders, endless legions, abundant gold, nor any other splendor was enough to satisfy his desire and make him appear great. They, on the other hand, stripped of all this, needed only their extraordinary self-control. It showed that the man wearing the crown and purple robe was as far below those who had neither in glory as a pearl is below the sun. For they were brought out before the whole world, youths, captives, and slaves all at once. As soon as they appeared, the king’s eyes flashed fire, while commanders, deputies, governors, and the devil’s entire amphitheater stood around them. From every side, the sound of pipes, trumpets, and every kind of music rose to Heaven and rang in their ears. The furnace burned to a boundless height, its flame reached the clouds themselves, and everything was filled with terror and dismay. But none of this frightened them. They laughed at it all with contempt, as they would at children mocking them, and showed their courage and meekness. Speaking in a voice clearer than those trumpets, they said, “Know this, king.” They did not wish to insult the king, even with a word, but only to declare their religion. For this reason they did not speak at great length, but stated everything briefly. “For there is,” they say, “a God in Heaven who is able to deliver us.” “Why show me the multitude? Why the furnace? Why the sharpened swords? Why the terrifying guards? Our Lord is higher and mightier than all these.” Then, considering that God might be willing to allow them to be burned, they added this so that, if it happened, they would not seem to have spoken falsely: “If this does not happen, know this, king: we do not serve your gods.” For if they had said, “Our sins are the reason He does not deliver us, should He fail to deliver us,” they would not have been believed. So here they remain silent on that subject, though in the furnace they speak of it, repeatedly bringing up their sins. But before the king they say nothing of the kind, only that even if they were burned, they would not abandon their religion. For they acted out of love alone, rather than for rewards and repayment. And they were also in captivity and slavery and had enjoyed no good thing. Yes, they had lost their country, their freedom, and all their possessions. Do not tell me about their honors in the king’s courts, for holy and righteous as they were, they would have preferred ten thousand times over to be beggars at home and share in the blessings of the temple. “For I would rather,” it says, “be an outcast in the house of my God than live in the tents of sinners.” And “one day in your courts is better than thousands.” They would therefore have preferred ten thousand times over to be outcasts at home than kings in Babylon. This is clear from what they say even in the furnace, grieving that they remain in that country. Although they themselves enjoyed great honors, they were deeply distressed at seeing everyone else’s calamities. This is especially characteristic of saints: no glory, honor, or anything else is more precious to them than their neighbor’s welfare. See, for example, how even in a furnace they offered their prayer for all the people. But we do not remember our brothers even when we are free. Again, when they were inquiring about the dreams, they sought “not their own but the common good,” for they later showed in many ways that they despised death. But everywhere they put themselves forward, seeking to prevail with God through persistent appeals. Then, because they did not consider themselves sufficient either, they appealed to the Fathers. Of themselves, however, they said that they offered nothing more than “a contrite spirit.” 19. Let us imitate these men as well. For now too a golden image has been set up: the tyranny of Mammon. But let us pay no attention to the tambourines, flutes, harps, or the rest of wealth’s splendor. Yes, even if we must fall into a furnace of poverty, let us choose it rather than worship that idol, and there will be “in the midst a moist whistling wind.” So let us not shudder at hearing of “a furnace of poverty.” At that time too, those who fell into the furnace were shown to be more glorious, while those who worshipped were destroyed. Back then everything happened at once, but in this case some of it will happen here, some there, and some both here and in the day to come. For those who have chosen poverty to avoid worshipping mammon will be more glorious both here and then, while those who became rich unjustly here will then pay the utmost penalty. Lazarus too came out of this furnace no less glorious than those children. But the rich man, who stood in the place of those who worshipped the image, was condemned to hell. Indeed, what we have just described was a type of this. Just as those who fell into that furnace suffered no harm, while those who remained outside were seized with great violence, so it will be then. The saints walking through the river of fire will suffer no pain; indeed, they will even appear joyful. But those who have worshipped the image will see the fire settle on them more fiercely than any wild beast and drag them in. So if anyone disbelieves in hell, let him look at this furnace and believe in what is to come through what is before him. Let him fear the furnace of sin rather than the furnace of poverty. For the former is flame and torment, while the latter is dew and refreshment. Beside the former stands the devil; beside the latter, angels fanning the flame aside. 20. Let the rich who kindle the furnace of poverty hear these things. Though they will not harm those others, since “the dew” comes to their aid, they will make themselves easy prey for the flame they have kindled with their own hands. Then an angel went down with those children. Now let us go down with those in the furnace of poverty, and through almsgiving let us make a “dewy air” and fan the flame completely aside, so that we too may share their crowns. Then the flames of hell may likewise be scattered by the voice of Christ saying, “You saw Me hungry and fed Me.” For that voice will then serve us as a “moist wind whistling” through the middle of the flame. Let us go down, then, with almsgiving into the furnace of poverty. Let us look at those who walk there with self-control and trample the burning coals. Let us look at the marvel, strange and beyond imagination: a man singing praise in a furnace, a man giving thanks in fire, chained to extreme poverty yet offering abundant praise to Christ. For those who bear poverty with thanksgiving truly become equal to those children. No flame is as terrible as poverty or as likely to set us on fire. But those children were not set on fire. Instead, when they gave thanks to the Lord, their bonds were immediately loosened as well. So now, if you are thankful when you fall into poverty, both the bonds are loosened and the flame is extinguished. Or even if it is not extinguished—something far more marvelous—it becomes a fountain instead of a flame. This happened then too, and in the middle of a furnace they enjoyed pure dew. It did not put out the fire, but it completely prevented those thrown into it from being burned. We can see this also in those who live according to wisdom, for even in poverty they feel more secure than the rich. So let us not sit outside the furnace without pity for the poor, or what happened to those executioners then may happen to us too. If you go down to them and take your stand with the children, the fire will no longer harm you. But if you sit above and neglect them in the flame of their poverty, the flame will burn you up. Go down into the fire, then, so that the fire may not burn you up. Do not sit outside the fire, or the flame may seize you. If it finds you among the poor, it will leave you; but if it finds you estranged from them, it will rush at you and seize you. So do not stand apart from those thrown in. When the devil commands that those who have not worshipped gold be thrown into the furnace of poverty, join those who are thrown in, rather than those who throw others in, so that you may be counted among the saved rather than the burned. For freedom from the desire for wealth and companionship with the poor are a most effective dew. Those who have trampled the desire for riches underfoot are wealthier than everyone. Those children too, by despising the king at that time, became more glorious than the king. So you too, if you despise the things of the world, will become more honorable than the whole world, like those holy men “of whom the world was not worthy.” To become worthy of the things in Heaven, then, I urge you to laugh at the things of this world with contempt. In this way you will both be more glorious here and enjoy the good things to come, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might forever and ever. Amen.