Homilies on Romans, Homily 5

“Just as they did not choose to keep God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do things that are not right.” To avoid seeming to hint at his hearers by spending so long discussing the unnatural sin, he next moves on to other kinds of sins as well. For this reason, he continues his whole discussion as though speaking about other people. And as he always does when speaking to believers about sins and wanting to show that they must be avoided, he brings in the Gentiles and says, “Not in lustful passion, like the other Gentiles who do not know God.” (1 Thess. iv. 5.) And again: “Do not grieve like others who have no hope.” (ib. 13.) So here too he shows that these sins belonged to them, and leaves them without any excuse. For he says that their outrageous deeds came from practice, not ignorance. This is why he did not say, “and as they did not know God,” but “as they did not choose to keep God in their knowledge.” He means that the sin arose more from a perverse, stubborn determination than from being suddenly swept away. He shows that the sins belonged not to the flesh (as some heretics say), but to the mind and its wicked desire, and that this was the spring from which these evils flowed. For once the mind loses its ability to distinguish right from wrong, everything else is dragged off course and overturned, when the one holding the reins is corrupted! (Plat. Phaedr. 246 A. B.) Ver. 29. “Filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, malice.” See how everything here heightens the charge. He says, “filled,” and “with all.” After naming malice in general, he goes on to its particular forms, and these too in their excess, saying, “Full of envy, murder,” since the latter comes from the former, as the cases of Abel and Joseph showed. Then, after saying, “strife, deceit, spite,” Ver. 30. “Whisperers, slanderers, haters of God, insolent,” and including among his charges things that many people consider unimportant, he further strengthens his accusation, advancing to the stronghold of their wickedness and calling them “boasters.” For even worse than sinning is being arrogant even while sinning. This is why he also charges the Corinthians with it, saying, “You are puffed up.” (1 Cor. v. 2.) For if someone who becomes puffed up over a good deed loses everything, what punishment does someone who does this amid his sins not deserve, since such a person can no longer repent? Next he says, “inventors of evil things,” showing that they were not content with those already in existence, but even invented others. This again describes people who act deliberately and earnestly, rather than people who are swept away and forced off course. After mentioning the various kinds of malice and showing that here too they resisted nature itself (for he says, “disobedient to parents”), he then goes on to the root of this great plague, calling them, Ver. 31. “Without natural affection, irreconcilable.” For Christ Himself also declares this to be the cause of wickedness, saying, “When lawlessness increases, the love of many will grow cold.” (Matt. xxiv. 12). Paul says this here too, calling them “covenant-breakers, without natural affection, irreconcilable, merciless,” and showing that they betrayed even nature’s gift. For even by nature we have a kind of family feeling toward one another, which even animals have toward each other. “For every animal,” it says, “loves its own kind, and every person his neighbor.” (Ecclus. xiii. 15.) But these people became even more savage than animals. Through these witnesses, then, he proves to us the disorder that evil doctrines brought upon the world, and clearly shows that in both cases the disease came from the negligence of those who were diseased. He also shows, as he did in the case of their doctrines, that here too they were left without any excuse. And so he says, Ver. 32. “Who, knowing God’s judgment, that those who commit such things deserve death, not only do the same things, but take pleasure in those who do them.” Here he anticipates two objections and first answers them. What grounds do you have, he means, for saying that you do not know what you ought to do? Even if you did not know, you would still be to blame for abandoning God, who teaches you. But as things stand, we have shown by many arguments that you do know, and that you transgress willingly. But are you being drawn along by passion? Why, then, do you both cooperate with it and praise it? For they “not only do such things,” he says, “but take pleasure in those who do them.” Having put the more serious and unpardonable sin first so that he could finish dealing with it (Or “convict you of it,” ἵνα ἑλῃ) (for someone who praises the sin is far worse even than someone who commits it), having put this first, then, he uses this approach to confront his hearer more forcefully in what follows, speaking this way, Chap. ii. ver. 1. “Therefore you have no excuse, O man, whoever you are who judge; for when you judge another, you condemn yourself.” He says these things with the rulers in view, since that city had then been given rule over the world. He therefore anticipates their response by saying, You are depriving yourself of a defense, whoever you may be. For when you condemn an adulterer and commit adultery yourself, even if no one condemns you, in judging the guilty person you have also passed sentence on yourself. Ver. 2. “For we know that God’s judgment against those who commit such things is according to truth.” To keep anyone from saying, “I have escaped until now,” and to make him afraid, he says that things with God are different from things here. For here (Plato in Theæt. et Phædon.) one person is punished, while another escapes for doing the same thing. But in the life to come it is different. He has said, then, that the person who judges knows what is right, but he has not added where that knowledge comes from, because that was unnecessary. In the case of ungodliness, he shows both that the ungodly person acted this way despite knowing God, and where he got that knowledge: from Creation. Since this was not clear to everyone, he also explained its source. But here he passes over it as something already accepted. When he says, “whoever you are who judge,” however, he is addressing not only rulers, but private individuals and subjects as well. For all people, even if they have no throne, executioners, or stocks at their command, still judge those who do wrong, in conversations and public meetings (Gr. κοινοἵς συλλόγοις) and by the verdict of their conscience. And no one would dare to say that the adulterer does not deserve punishment. But it is others, he says, whom they condemn, rather than themselves. For this reason he confronts them forcefully and says, Ver. 3. “And do you think this” (4 mss. om. this), “O man, you who judge those who do such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape God’s judgment?” For he had shown how great the world’s sin was: from its doctrines, from its deeds, from the fact that people still sinned despite being wise and having creation to lead them by the hand; not only by abandoning God, but also by choosing images of creeping things, dishonoring virtue, and deserting to the service of vice, even contrary to nature, despite nature’s attempts to hold them back. He next goes on to show that those who do such things are also punished. He did, in fact, immediately point out a punishment by mentioning their very conduct. For “they received,” he says, “in themselves the fitting repayment for their error.” But because they do not recognize this, he also mentions another punishment, the one they feared most. Indeed, he had already pointed chiefly to this. For when he says, “God’s judgment is according to truth,” he means this very judgment. But he establishes the same point again on further grounds, saying, “And do you think this, O man, you who judge those who do such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape God’s judgment?” You have not been acquitted by your own judgment, and will you escape through God’s? Who could possibly say this? And yet you have judged yourself (3 mss. “and not been acquitted”). But since your court of judgment was so strict, and you could not even spare yourself, how can God, who cannot do wrong and is just in the fullest sense, fail to do the same with far greater certainty? Have you condemned yourself, and is God to approve of you and praise you? How can that be reasonable? All the while, you deserve a greater punishment than the person you condemn. For merely sinning is not the same as falling again into the very sins for which you have punished someone else. See how he has strengthened the charge! For if you, he means, punish someone who has committed fewer sins, even though doing so brings shame on yourself, how can God fail to rule against you and condemn you more severely, when you have committed greater offenses? And He will never bring shame on Himself by doing this, while you already stand condemned by your own reckoning. But suppose you say, “I know I deserve punishment,” yet think little of it because of His patience, and feel confident because you are not punished immediately. This is certainly a reason you should be afraid and tremble. For the fact that you have not yet been punished will not mean that you escape punishment, but that you receive a more severe punishment if you continue without changing. And so he goes on to say: Ver. 4. “Or do you despise the riches of His goodness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s goodness leads you to repentance?” For after praising God’s patience and showing how greatly it benefits those who pay attention to it (and this benefit was drawing sinners to repentance), he adds to the terror. For just as it provides safety for those who use it rightly, it leads to greater punishment for those who disregard it. Whenever you repeat this common idea, that God does not exact justice because He is good and patient, he says, you are merely mentioning what will make the punishment more severe. For God shows His goodness so that you may get free of your sins, not add to them. If you do not use it this way, the judgment will be more terrifying. God’s patience is therefore a chief reason to abstain from sin, rather than to use His kindness as an excuse for stubbornness. For if He is patient, He most certainly punishes. How is this clear? From what is said next. For if the wickedness is great and the wicked have not been repaid, it is absolutely necessary that they should be repaid. For if human beings do not overlook these things, how could God overlook them? And so from this point he introduces the subject of the judgment. For showing that many people remain unpunished here, though liable to punishment if they do not repent, necessarily brings with it the judgment, and an increased punishment. This is why he says, Ver. 5. “But because of your hardness and unrepentant heart, you store up anger for yourself.” For when someone cannot be softened by goodness or turned back by fear, what can be harder than such a person? After showing God’s goodness toward humanity, he then shows that His punishment is unbearable for anyone who still does not turn to repentance. And notice how fitting his words are! “You store up anger for yourself,” he says, making clear what is certainly being stored up and showing that its author is not He who judges, but the person condemned. For he says, “you store up for yourself,” not that God stores it up for you. For He did everything appropriate: He created you with the ability to distinguish good from what is not good, showed patience toward you, called you to repentance, and threatened a terrifying day, using every means to draw you to repentance. But if you remain unyielding, “you store up anger for yourself for the day of anger and revelation and (so all mss. but two) the righteous judgment of God.” For to keep you from thinking of an emotional passion when you hear of anger, he adds, “the righteous judgment of God.” And he had good reason to say “revelation,” because this is revealed then, when each person receives what he deserves. For here many people often harass and harm someone unjustly. But in the life to come it is different. Ver. 6, 7. “Who will repay every person according to his deeds, to those who patiently persist in doing good,” etc. Since his discussion of the judgment and the punishment to come had become terrifying and severe, he does not immediately turn to punishment, as one might expect, but directs his discussion toward something sweeter, the reward for good deeds, saying, Ver. 7. “To those who patiently persist in doing good and seek glory and honor and immortality, eternal life.” Here too he rouses those who had drawn back during their trials, and shows that it is not right to rely on faith alone. For that tribunal will also examine deeds. But notice how, when speaking about the things to come, he cannot describe the blessings clearly, but speaks of glory and honor. For since they surpass everything human beings have, he has no image drawn from this world to illustrate them. Instead, he presents them to us as far as possible through things that seem splendid among us: glory, honor, life. For these are the things people eagerly pursue. Yet those things are not the same as these, but far better, since they are incorruptible and immortal. See how, by speaking of incorruptibility, he has opened the doors for us to the resurrection of the body. For incorruptibility belongs to the corruptible body. Then, because this was not enough, he added glory and honor. For we will all rise incorruptible, but not all to glory: some will rise to punishment, and some to life. Ver. 8. “But to those who are contentious,” he says. Again, he leaves those who live in wickedness without an excuse, and shows that they fall into unrighteousness through a kind of argumentative spirit and carelessness. “And do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness.” See, here is yet another accusation. For what defense can someone offer who flees from the light and chooses darkness? He does not say, those who are “compelled by” or “ruled by,” but those who “obey unrighteousness,” so that you may learn that the fall is freely chosen and the crime is not forced on them. Ver. 9. “Indignation and anger, suffering and anguish, upon every human soul that does evil.” That is, whether someone is rich, a consul, or a sovereign himself (so Field: several mss. and Edd. “the emperor himself”), none of these positions can enable him to brazen his way out of giving an account at the judgment. For rank has no place there. Having shown how very great the disease is, and added its cause, namely the carelessness of those who were diseased, and finally shown that destruction awaits them and that changing their ways is easy, he again assigns the Jew the heavier share of punishment. For someone who had received a greater share of instruction would also deserve a greater share of punishment if he acted lawlessly. And so the wiser or more powerful we are, the more severely we are punished if we sin. For if you are rich, more money will be demanded from you than from the poor; if you are wiser than others, stricter obedience; and if you have been given authority, more outstanding acts of goodness. So too with everything else: you will have to contribute in proportion to your ability. Ver. 10. “But glory, honor, and peace to every person who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” What Jew does he mean here? And what Gentiles is he discussing? Those before Christ’s coming. For his discussion had not yet reached the times of grace; he was still dwelling on the earlier times. In this way, he first begins from a distance to break down and clear away the separation between the Greek and the Jew, so that when he does this in the matter of grace, he will no longer seem to be inventing some new and degrading view. For if there was no difference in those earlier times, when this Grace had not shone out so greatly, when the Jews’ position was exalted, renowned, and glorious before everyone, what could they say for themselves (τίνα ἂν ἔχοιεν λόγον εἰπεἵν;) now, after so great a display of grace? This is why he establishes the point so earnestly. For once the hearer has learned that this held true in earlier times, he will accept it all the more after faith has come. But by Greeks here he does not mean those who worshiped idols, but those who worshiped God, obeyed the law of nature, and strictly observed everything that contributes to godliness apart from the Jewish observances. Such were Melchizedek and his associates (οἱ περὶ), Job, the Ninevites, and Cornelius. Here, then, he first breaks through the partition between the circumcision and the uncircumcision. From a distance he dispels this distinction beforehand, so as to do it without arousing suspicion, and to attack it as though compelled by another occasion, which is always characteristic of his Apostolic wisdom. For if he had demonstrated this in the times of grace, what he said would have looked very suspicious. But after describing the vice that possessed the world and where the paths of wickedness end, moving from that in sequence to discuss these points makes his teaching free from suspicion. That this is what he means, and that he arranged his argument for this purpose, is clear from the following. If he had not been intent on accomplishing this, it would have been enough to say, “Because of your hardness and unrepentant heart, you store up anger for yourself for the day of anger,” and then drop the subject, since it would have been complete. But because his aim was not only to speak about the judgment to come, but also to show that the Jew had no advantage over such a Greek and therefore should not be arrogant, he goes further and discusses them in order. But consider! He had frightened the hearer, confronted him with the terrifying day, told him how evil it is to live in wickedness, and shown him that no one sins out of ignorance or goes unpunished, but that even if he is not punished now, he certainly will be. Then he next wants to establish that instruction in the Law was not of great importance. For both punishment and reward depend on works, not on circumcision and uncircumcision. Since he had said that the Gentile would certainly not go unpunished, and had taken this as established, and on that basis had proved that he would also be rewarded, he next showed that the Law and circumcision were unnecessary. For it is chiefly the Jews whom he is opposing here. They were somewhat inclined to find fault: first, in their arrogance, they refused to be counted alongside the Gentiles; and second, they thought it ridiculous that faith should do away with all sins. For this reason he first accused the Gentiles, on whose behalf he is speaking, so that he could attack the Jews without arousing suspicion and with freedom to speak boldly. Then, when he comes to examine punishment, he shows that far from gaining any benefit from the Law, the Jew is even weighed down by it. This had been his aim for some time. For if the Gentile has no excuse because he failed to change even though creation and his own reasoning guided him, much less does the Jew, who had the teaching of the Law in addition to these. Having persuaded him to accept these arguments readily in the case of other people’s sins, he now compels him, even against his will, to accept them in the case of his own. And to make his words more readily accepted, he leads him forward with the better things also in view, speaking this way: “But glory and honor and peace to every person who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” For here, whatever good things someone has, he has them amid struggles, whether he is rich, a prince, or a king. Even if he is not at odds with others, he is often at odds with himself, with plenty of warfare in his own thoughts. But there it is different: everything is still, free from trouble, and filled with true peace. Having established from what he said above that those who do not have the Law will also enjoy the same blessings, he adds his reason in the following words: Ver. 11. “For there is no partiality with God.” For when he says that both Jew and Gentile are punished if they sin, he needs no arguments. But when he wants to prove that the Gentile is also honored, he needs a foundation for this as well, since it seemed astonishing and extravagant that someone who had heard neither Law nor Prophets should be honored for doing good. This is why (as I also said before) he trains their ears by discussing the times before grace, so that afterward he can more easily bring them to accept these things along with faith. For here he arouses no suspicion, since he does not seem to be establishing his own point. Having said, “Glory and honor and peace to every person who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile,” he adds, “For there is no partiality with God.” Wonderful! He has achieved far more than a victory! For by reducing the alternative to an absurdity, he shows that it would be unfitting for God to act otherwise. For that would amount to partiality. But God is not like that. And he does not say, “for if this were not so, God would show partiality,” but more majestically, “For there is no partiality with God.” It is not people’s status but the differences in their actions that He examines. By saying this, he shows that the Jew differed from the Gentile only in personal status, not in actions. The consequence could be expressed this way: it is not because one is a Jew and the other a Gentile that one is honored and the other disgraced; rather, either treatment results from their works. But he does not say this, since it would have stirred the Jew’s anger. Instead, he states something further, bringing their arrogant spirit still lower and subduing it so that they will accept the other point. What is this? The next proposition. Ver. 12. “For all,” he says, “who have sinned without law will also perish without law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law.” For here, as I said before, he shows not only the equality of Jew and Gentile, but that the Jew was even heavily burdened by the gift of the Law. For the Gentile is judged without law. But this “without law” (Gr. lawlessly) here describes the easier situation, not the worse one: that is, he does not have the Law to accuse him. For “without law” (that is, without the condemnation arising from it), he is condemned solely by natural reasoning. But the Jew is condemned “under the Law,” that is, with both nature and the Law accusing him. For the greater the care he received, the greater the punishment he will suffer. See how much more urgently he presses the Jews to turn quickly to grace! Since they said that they did not need grace because they were justified by the Law, he shows that they need it more than the Gentiles, since they are liable to greater punishment. Then he adds yet another reason, further supporting what he has said. Ver 13. “For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God.” He does well to add “before God.” For perhaps before human beings they may be able to appear impressive and make great claims, but before God things are quite different: only the doers of the Law are justified. You see how effectively he fights by turning their own words in the opposite direction. For if you claim to be saved through the Law, he says, in this respect the Gentile will stand ahead of you when he is shown to do what is written in the Law. And how is it possible, someone may ask, for a person who has not heard it to do it? Not only is this possible, he says, but something even more remarkable. For it is possible not only to do it without hearing it, but also to hear it and not do it. He makes this last point clearer, and gains a greater advantage over them, when he says, “You who teach another, do you not teach yourself?” (Rom. ii. 21.) But here he is still establishing the former point. Ver. 14. “For when the Gentiles,” he says, “who do not have the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, though they do not have the law, are a law to themselves.” I am not rejecting the Law, he means; even on this basis I justify the Gentiles. You see how, when undermining Judaism’s conceit, he gives no opening for an accusation that he is insulting the Law. On the contrary, by praising it and showing its greatness, he establishes his whole position. Whenever he says “by nature,” he means through natural reasoning. He shows that others are better than they are, and, what is more, better precisely because they have not received the Law and do not possess what seems to give the Jews an advantage over them. For this, he means, is why they deserve admiration: they did not need a law, and yet displayed all the deeds of the Law, having its works, rather than its letters, engraved on their minds. For this is what he says, Ver. 15. “Who show the work of the Law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts meanwhile accusing or else defending one another.” Ver. 16. “On the day when God will judge people’s secrets through Jesus Christ, according to my Gospel.” See how he again sets that day before them and brings it close, battering down their conceit and showing that those who earnestly strove to fulfill the requirements of the Law without having the Law deserve greater honor. But it is worth mentioning now what is most admirable in the Apostle’s discretion. For after showing from the reasons he has given that the Gentile is greater than the Jew, he does not state this in the inference and conclusion of his argument, so as not to exasperate the Jew. To make what I have said clearer, I will give the Apostle’s very words. After saying that it is not the hearers of the Law but the doers of the Law who will be justified, he could have gone on to say, “For when the Gentiles, who do not have the Law, do by nature the things contained in the Law,” they are much better than those instructed by the Law. But he does not say this. He stops at praising the Gentiles, and for a while refrains from carrying on his discussion by making comparisons, so that at least in this way the Jew may accept what is said. And so he does not word it as I was doing. How does he put it? “For when the Gentiles, who do not have the Law, do by nature the things contained in the Law, these, though they do not have the Law, are a law to themselves; who show the work of the Law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness.” For conscience and reason are enough to take the Law’s place. By this he showed, first, that God made human beings independent, able to choose virtue and avoid vice. And do not be surprised that he proves this point not once or twice, but several times. For he urgently needed to establish this point because of those who ask, “Why did Christ come only now? And where in earlier times was the (most mss. this mighty) plan of Providence?” These are the people he is now fending off along the way, when he shows that even in former times, before the Law was given, the human race (Gr. nature) fully enjoyed the care of Providence. For “what may be known of God was evident in them,” and they knew what was good and what was bad. By this knowledge they judged others, something he reproaches them for when he says, “when you judge another, you condemn yourself.” But in the case of the Jews, besides what has been mentioned, there was the Law, and not reason or conscience alone. And why does he use the words “accusing or else defending”? For if they have a written Law and show its work within them, how can reason still accuse them? But he is no longer speaking only of those who do good, but also of mankind (Gr. the nature) as a whole. For then our thoughts rise up, some accusing and some defending. And at that tribunal a person needs no other accuser. Then, to increase their fear, he does not say people’s sins, but people’s secrets. For he had said, “Do you think, you who judge those who do such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape God’s judgment?” So, to keep you from expecting a verdict like the one you pass yourself, and to make you understand that God’s judgment is far more exact than your own, he introduces “people’s secrets,” and adds, “through Jesus Christ according to my Gospel.” For human beings judge only open actions. And above, too, he spoke of the Father alone; but as soon as he had crushed them with fear, he also brought in the mention of Christ. But he does not simply do this: even here, he introduces Him after mentioning the Father. Through these same words he also raises the dignity of his preaching. For this preaching, he means, openly declares what nature taught in advance. Do you see how wisely he has bound them both to the Gospel and to Christ, and demonstrated that our affairs do not stop here, but continue beyond this life? He established this before as well, when he said, “you store up anger for yourself for the day of anger,” and here again, “God will judge people’s secrets.” Now let each person look into his own conscience, count up his transgressions, and hold himself strictly accountable, so that we may not then be condemned with the world. (1 Cor. xi. 32.) For that court is terrifying, that tribunal awe-inspiring, and giving an account fills one with trembling; a river of fire rolls along (ἕλκεται). “A brother does not redeem: will a man redeem?” (Ps. xlix. 8. LXX.) Remember, then, what is said in the Gospel: the Angels running back and forth, the bridal chamber being shut, the lamps going out, the powers that drag people to the furnaces. And consider this: if a secret deed of any one of us were exposed today before the Church alone, what could he do but pray to perish and for the earth to open up for him, rather than have so many witnesses to his wickedness? How, then, will we feel when everything is exposed before the whole world, in so bright and open a theater, with people both known and unknown to us seeing everything? But alas! What am I forced to use to frighten you! Other people’s opinion, when I ought to use the fear of God and His condemnation. For what, tell me, will become of us then, when we are bound, gnashing our teeth, and led away into the outer darkness? Or rather, what will we do (and this is the most terrifying thought of all) when we offend (προσκρούσωμεν) God? For anyone with sense and reason has already endured a hell when he is out of God’s sight. But because this causes us no pain, fire is threatened instead. For we ought to feel pain when we sin, rather than when we are punished. Listen, then, to Paul weeping and mourning over sins for which he was not going to be punished. For “I am not worthy,” he says, “to be called an Apostle, because I persecuted the Church.” (1 Cor. xv. 9.) Listen also to David: though freed from punishment, he still thought of having offended God, and called punishment down on himself, saying, “Let Your hand be upon me and upon my father’s house.” (2 Sam. xxiv. 17.) For having offended God is more distressing than being punished. But now our attitude is so miserable that, without the fear of hell, we would not even readily choose to do anything good. So even if for no other reason, we would deserve hell at least for this: we fear hell more than Christ (several mss. God). But blessed Paul was the opposite. Because we feel otherwise, we are condemned to hell. For if we only loved Christ as we should love Him, we would know that offending Him whom we love is more painful than hell. But because we do not love Him, we do not know how great His punishment is. And this is what I mourn and grieve over most! And yet what has God not done to be loved by us? What has He not devised? What has He left undone? We insulted Him when He had done us no wrong at all, but had even blessed us with countless, indescribable blessings. We turned away from Him as He called us and drew us to Himself in every way. Yet even then He did not punish us, but ran to us Himself and held us back as we fled. And we shook Him off and leaped away to the Devil. Even then He did not stand back, but sent countless messengers to call us to Himself again: Prophets, Angels, Patriarchs. And we not only refused to receive His embassy, but even insulted those who came. Yet even for this He did not spit us out of His mouth. Instead, like a rejected lover whose love is very intense, He went around appealing to everyone—heaven, earth, Jeremiah, Micah—not to weigh us down, but to defend His own ways (Is. i. 2; Jer. ii. 12; iii. 12; etc.; Mic. vi. 1). And along with the prophets, He Himself also went to those who turned away from Him, ready to submit to examination, willing to stoop to a discussion, and drawing those who were deaf to every appeal into a debate with Himself. For He says, “O my people, what have I done to you, and how have I worn you out? Answer me.” (Mic. vi. 3.) After all this, we killed the Prophets, stoned them, and inflicted countless other cruel wrongs on them. What then? In their place He no longer sent Prophets, Angels, or Patriarchs, but the Son Himself. He too was killed when He came. Yet even then He did not extinguish His love, but kindled it still more, and continues appealing to us, even after His own Son was killed, pleading with us and doing everything to turn us toward Himself. And Paul cries aloud, saying, “Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were appealing to you through us: be reconciled to God.” (2 Cor. v. 20.) Yet none of these things reconciled us. Even then He did not leave us, but continues both threatening hell and promising a kingdom, so that even this way He may draw us to Himself. But we remain unresponsive. What can be worse than this brutishness? For if a human being had done these things, would we not have made ourselves his slaves many times over? But when God does them, we turn away from Him! Oh, what apathy! Oh, what insensitivity! We live continually in sins and wickedness, yet if we happen to do some little good, like unfeeling household servants, how stingily we demand payment, and how particular we are about the reward, if what we have done is to bring any reward at all. And yet the reward is greater if you do it without any hope of reward. Why, saying all this and keeping such exact accounts is language more suited to a hired worker than to a willing household servant. For we ought to do everything for Christ’s sake, for Him rather than for the reward. This too was why He threatened hell and promised the kingdom: so that we might love Him. Let us, then, love Him as we ought to love Him. For this is the great reward; this is kingship and pleasure; this is enjoyment and glory and honor; this is light; this is the great happiness that language (or reasoning) cannot describe to us and the mind cannot imagine. Yet I really do not know how I was led so far in speaking this way, and came to urge people to think little of the kingdom when they do not even think little of power and glory here for Christ’s sake. Still, those great and noble men reached even this measure of love. Listen, for instance, to how Peter burns with love for Him, placing Him before soul, life, and everything. And when he had denied Him, he grieved not over the punishment, but over having denied Him whom he longed for, which was more bitter to him than any punishment. He showed all this before the grace of the Spirit was given. And he persistently pressed the question, “Where are You going?” (John xiii. 36) and before this, “To whom shall we go?” (vi. 67); and again, “I will follow You wherever You go.” (Luke xxii. 33?) Thus He was everything to them, and they counted neither heaven nor the kingdom of heaven as anything compared with Him whom they longed for. For You are all these things to me, he means. And why are you amazed that Peter felt this way? Listen now to what the Prophet says: “What do I have in heaven, and what is there on earth that I should desire compared with You?” (Ps. lxxiii. 25.) What he means is roughly this: I desire nothing above or below except You alone. This is passion; this is love. If we can love this way, we will count not only present things but even things to come as nothing compared with the enchantment of that love. Even here we will enjoy the Kingdom, delighting in His love. And how can this happen? someone may ask. Let us reflect on how often we insult Him after countless acts of goodness, and yet He stands and calls us to Himself; how often we run past Him, and still He does not ignore us, but runs to us, draws us to Himself, and gathers us into His embrace. For if we consider these things and others like them, we will be able to kindle this longing. For if it were an ordinary person who loved like this, and a king who was loved this way, would the king not feel respect for the greatness of that love? Most certainly he would. But when the situation is reversed, and His Beauty (S. “that beauty”) is indescribable, as are the glory and riches of Him who loves us, while our wickedness is so great, surely we deserve the utmost punishment, wicked outcasts as we are, treated with such exceedingly great love by One so great and wonderful, yet insolently abusing His love? He needs nothing from us, and yet even now He does not stop loving us. We greatly need what is His, and still we do not cling to His love. Instead, we value money above Him, and human friendship, bodily comfort, power, and fame above Him who values nothing more than us. For He had One Son, True (Lit. “true-born”) and Only-Begotten, and He did not spare even Him for us. But we value many things above Him. Would there not, then, be good reason for hell and torment, even if they were twice, three times, or many times as great as they are? For what can we say for ourselves if we value even Satan’s commands more than the Laws of Christ, and disregard our own salvation so that we may choose wicked deeds over Him who suffered everything for us? What pardon do these things deserve? What excuse do they have? Not even one. (5 mss. οὐδὲ μιἵς.) Let us now stop our headlong course and come to our senses again. Taking all these things into account, let us offer Him glory through our works (for words alone are not enough for this), so that we may also enjoy the glory that comes from Him. May we all attain it through the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom, and with Whom, to the Father be glory, with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.