Homilies on the Statues, Homily 5

1. Yesterday’s discourse about the three young men and the Babylonian furnace seems to have brought considerable comfort to you, my beloved people; and the example of Job brought still more, along with that dunghill more worthy of reverence than any royal throne. For seeing a royal throne gives spectators no benefit, only a passing pleasure that does them no good. But from the sight of Job’s dunghill, a person can gain every kind of benefit, indeed, much divine wisdom and comfort to help them endure patiently. That is why, even today, many undertake a long pilgrimage across the sea, hurrying from the ends of the earth all the way to Arabia to see that dunghill. Once they have seen it, they kiss the ground that held the wrestling arena of such a victor and received blood more precious than all gold! For royal purple does not shine as brilliantly as that body did, dyed not in someone else’s blood, but in its own! Those very wounds were more precious than jewels of every kind! Pearls, by their nature, do nothing to help our lives; they meet no essential need of those who own them. But those wounds bring comfort in every sorrow. To see that this is true, suppose someone loses a beloved and only son. Show him ten thousand pearls, and you will not soothe his grief or ease his anguish. But remind him of Job’s wounds, and you can easily comfort him by saying: “Why are you grieving, my friend? You have lost one son. But that blessed man, after losing his entire family of children, was also struck with a plague in his own flesh and sat naked on the dunghill, blood streaming from every part of him, his flesh gradually wasting away. And he was righteous and true, so devout a man, who abstained from every evil deed and had God Himself as a witness to his virtue.” By speaking this way, you would extinguish all the sufferer’s sorrow and remove all his distress. That is how the righteous man’s wounds become more useful than pearls! 2. Picture this wrestler, then, and imagine seeing that dunghill, with him sitting in the middle of it! That golden statue! Studded with gems! I do not know how to describe it, for I cannot find any material precious enough to compare with that bloodstained body! That flesh was far above every material, however costly, and incomparably more precious; those wounds were more radiant than the sun’s rays. For the sun’s rays light up the eyes of the body, but those wounds enlighten the eyes of the mind! They struck the devil completely blind! That is why, after that blow, he recoiled and appeared no more. And you too, beloved, should learn from this how much benefit there is in suffering! When the righteous man was rich and lived comfortably, the devil had an opportunity to accuse him. However false the accusation, he could still say, “Does Job serve you for nothing?” But after stripping him and making him poor, he no longer dared even to open his mouth. When Job was wealthy, the devil prepared to wrestle with him and threatened to overthrow him. But when he had made him poor, taken away everything he had, and plunged him into the deepest distress, then he recoiled. When Job’s body was healthy, he raised his hands against him; but when he had battered his flesh, he fled—defeated! Do you see how, for those who stay watchful, poverty is much better and more beneficial than riches, weakness and sickness than health, and trial than peace, since it makes the combatants more glorious and vigorous? 3. Who has ever seen or heard of such an astonishing contest? Fighters in worldly contests win and receive their crowns when they have battered their opponents’ heads! But this opponent was defeated and retreated when he had battered the righteous man’s body, pierced it with every kind of ulcer, and reduced him to great weakness. Even after piercing his ribs in every direction, he gained nothing. He did not rob him of his hidden treasure, but made him more visible to us. Through those openings, he gave everyone the opportunity to look inside him and see all his wealth! Just when he expected to win, he withdrew in utter disgrace and never said another word! What is the matter, devil? Why are you withdrawing? Wasn’t everything done that you chose? Haven’t you taken away his flocks, his herds, his droves of horses and mules? Haven’t you also destroyed his band of children and battered his flesh to pieces? Why are you withdrawing? “Because,” he says, “everything I chose has happened, yet what I most wanted to happen, and for which I did all those things, has not happened: he has not blasphemed! That was why,” he continues, “I did all those things. And since it has not happened, I have gained nothing by robbing him of his wealth, destroying his children, or striking his body with plague. Instead, the opposite of what I intended has happened: I have made my enemy more glorious; I have added brilliance to his reputation.” Do you see, beloved, how great the reward of suffering was? His body was beautiful and healthy before, but it became more worthy of reverence when pierced through and through with these wounds! In the same way, wool, beautiful as it is before dyeing, takes on indescribable beauty and added grace when it becomes purple. But if the devil had not stripped him, we would not have known what excellent shape the victor was in. If he had not pierced his body with ulcers, the rays within would not have shone out. If he had not made him sit on a dunghill, we would not have known his wealth. For a king sitting on a throne is not as glorious as this man was striking and conspicuous while sitting on his dunghill! For after the royal throne comes death, but after that dunghill, the kingdom of heaven! 4. Taking all these reasons together, let us lift ourselves out of the dejection weighing us down. I have laid these accounts before you so that you will not merely applaud what is said, but imitate the virtue and patience of such noble men. Learn from the events themselves that none of the evils people suffer should be feared except sin alone: neither poverty, nor disease, nor insult, nor malicious treatment, nor disgrace, nor death, which is considered the worst of all evils. To those who love spiritual wisdom, these things are only the names of calamities, names with no substantial reality. The true calamity is offending God and doing anything that displeases Him. Tell me, what is terrifying about death? Is it that it takes you more quickly to the peaceful harbor and to the life free from turmoil? Even if no one puts you to death, won’t the very law of nature eventually creep up on you and separate your body from your soul? And if this event we fear does not happen now, it will happen soon. 5. I say this without expecting any dreadful or sorrowful event—God forbid! But I am ashamed for those who are afraid of death. Tell me, while expecting such good things as “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, and which have never entered the human heart,” do you hesitate over enjoying them and remain careless and sluggish—and not only sluggish, but afraid and trembling? Isn’t it shameful that you are distressed over death, while Paul groaned over the present life and wrote to the Romans, “Creation groans together, and we ourselves also, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan”? He said this without condemning present things, but longing for things to come. “I have tasted grace,” he says, “and I cannot willingly bear the delay. I have the first fruits of the Spirit, and I press on toward the whole. I have ascended to the third heaven; I have seen that indescribable glory; I have looked on the shining palaces; I have learned what joys I am deprived of while I linger here, and that is why I groan.” Suppose someone had taken you into royal halls and shown you the gold glittering everywhere on the walls and all the rest of that glorious display. If he then led you back to a poor person’s hut and promised to bring you back to those palaces in a short time and give you a permanent home there, tell me, wouldn’t you ache with longing and grow impatient even over those few days? Think this way, then, about heaven and earth, and groan with Paul, not because of death, but because of the present life! 6. “But let me be like Paul,” someone says, “and I will never be afraid of death.” Why, what prevents you, my friend, from becoming like Paul? Wasn’t he poor? Wasn’t he a tentmaker? Wasn’t he a man of humble standing? If he had been rich and born into a distinguished family, the poor could have pleaded their poverty when called on to imitate his zeal. But as it is, you can say nothing of the kind. This man practiced a manual trade and supported himself by his daily labor. You, on the other hand, have inherited the true religion from your fathers from the beginning and have been nourished from your earliest years by studying the sacred writings. But he was “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an abusive man,” and he ravaged the Church! Nevertheless, he changed so suddenly that he surpassed everyone in the intensity of his zeal, and he cries out, “Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ.” He imitated the Lord; won’t you, who have been raised in godliness from the beginning, imitate a fellow servant, someone brought to the faith by conversion later in life? Don’t you know that those living in sin are dead while they live, and that those living in righteousness live even though they are dead? These are not my words. Christ declared it when He said to Martha, “Whoever believes in me will live even though he is dead.” Is our teaching really a fable? If you are a Christian, believe in Christ. If you believe in Christ, show me your faith by your works. How can you show it? By treating death with contempt, for this is where we differ from unbelievers. They have reason to fear death, since they have no hope of a resurrection. But you are traveling toward better things and have the opportunity to reflect on the hope of the future. What excuse do you have if, while certain of a resurrection, you are still as afraid of death as those who do not believe in the resurrection? 7. “But I am not afraid of death,” someone says, “or of dying, but of a miserable death, of being beheaded.” Did John, then, I ask, die miserably? For he was beheaded. Or did Stephen die miserably? For he was stoned. According to this objection, all the martyrs died wretchedly, since some ended their lives by fire and others by the sword; some were thrown into the ocean, others down a cliff, and others into the jaws of wild beasts, and so met their deaths. To die shamefully, my friend, is not to meet a violent death, but to die in sin! At least listen to the prophet’s teaching on this very subject: “The death of sinners is evil.” He does not say that a violent death is evil. What does he say? “The death of sinners is evil.” And rightly so, for after departure from this life comes unbearable punishment: undying vengeance, the venomous worm, the unquenchable fire, the outer darkness, the unbreakable chains, the gnashing of teeth, the suffering, the anguish, and eternal justice. 8. Since such evils await sinners, what advantage is it to them to end their days at home in bed? In the same way, on the other hand, it can do the righteous no harm to lay down this present life by sword, steel, or fire, when they are about to depart for immortal blessings. Truly, “the death of sinners is evil.” Such was the death of the rich man who despised Lazarus. After reaching a natural end to his life, at home in bed, surrounded by his relatives, he experienced fiery torment after his departure to the other world. Out of all the pleasure he had enjoyed in this present life, he could not obtain even a little comfort there! But it was different for Lazarus. Lying on the pavement while dogs came and licked his sores, he suffered a violent death—for what could be more painful than hunger? Yet after leaving this world, he enjoyed eternal blessings, delighting in Abraham’s bosom! How, then, did dying a violent death harm him? Or how did dying without violence benefit the rich man? 9. But someone says, “We are not afraid of dying violently, but of dying unjustly and being punished like the guilty, when we have had nothing to do with the crimes we are suspected of.” Tell me, what are you saying? Are you afraid of dying unjustly, and would you prefer to die justly? Who is so wretched and miserable that, given the choice of dying unjustly, he would rather die as a just punishment? If we must fear death, we must fear it when it comes upon us justly, since the person who dies unjustly shares, by that very means, in the lot of all the saints. For many of those whom God approved and honored met an unjust end, beginning with Abel. He had not sinned against his brother or done Cain any harm. Rather, he was slaughtered because he had honored God. But God allowed it. Do you think this was because He loved him or because He hated him? Clearly, because He loved him and wanted to make his crown brighter through that utterly unjust murder. Do you see, then, that we should fear neither a violent death nor an unjust death, but dying in a state of sin? Abel died unjustly. Cain lived, groaning and trembling! Which of the two, I ask, was more blessed: the one who went to rest in righteousness or the one who lived in sin; the one who died unjustly or the one who was justly punished? Would you like me to tell you, my beloved people, why we are afraid of death? Love for the kingdom has not penetrated us, nor has desire for things to come set us on fire. Otherwise, we would despise all present things, just as blessed Paul did. Add to this that we do not stand in awe of hell; that is why death is terrifying. We do not grasp how unbearable the punishment there is; that is why we fear death instead of sin. If fear of the one possessed our souls, fear of the other could not enter. 10. I will try to make this clear, using something close to home rather than something remote: the events that have happened among us in recent days. When the Emperor’s letter came, ordering the imposition of that tax considered so unbearable, everyone was in an uproar. Everyone objected, considered it a terrible burden, and resented it. When people met, they said, “Our life is not worth living; the city is ruined; no one will be able to bear this heavy burden.” They were distressed as though they faced the most extreme danger. Afterward, the rebellion actually took place, and certain vile—yes, utterly vile—people trampled the laws underfoot, pulled down the statues, and put everyone in the gravest danger. Now that the Emperor’s anger has made us fear for our very lives, this loss of money no longer stings us. Instead of those complaints, I hear everyone speaking differently: “Let the Emperor take our property. We will gladly lose our fields and possessions if someone will only guarantee that our bodies will be safe.” Before the fear of death pressed on us, then, the loss of our wealth tormented us. After these lawless outrages, the fear of death took its place and drove out grief over that loss. In the same way, if the fear of hell possessed our souls, the fear of death would not possess them. Just as, when two kinds of pain seize the body, the stronger usually overshadows the weaker, so it would happen now: if the dread of future punishment remained in the soul, it would overshadow every human fear. Anyone who makes an effort always to remember hell will therefore laugh at every kind of death. This will not only deliver him from the present distress, but even rescue him from the flame to come. For someone who is always afraid of hell will never fall into hell’s fire, because this continual fear keeps him clearheaded and watchful! 11. Allow me now to say to you at this fitting moment, “Brothers and sisters, do not be children in understanding; but in malice be children.” For our terror is childish if we fear death but do not fear sin. Little children, too, are afraid of masks but do not fear fire. On the contrary, if they happen to be carried near a burning candle, they reach toward the candle and its flame without any concern. Yet a mask, which deserves no concern at all, terrifies them, while they have no dread of fire, which really should be feared. In just the same way, we fear death, a mask we could well despise, but have no fear of sin, which is truly dreadful and devours the conscience like fire! This happens because of our own foolishness, not because of the nature of these things. If we would just consider what death is, we would never be afraid of it. What, then, I ask you, is death? It is simply taking off a garment. For the body surrounds the soul like a garment, and after laying it aside for a short time through death, we will put it on again in greater splendor. What is death at most? A journey for a time; a longer sleep than usual! So if you fear death, you should also fear sleep! If you are distressed over those who are dying, grieve for those who are eating and drinking too, for the one is as natural as the other! Do not let natural things sadden you; instead, grieve over things that arise from an evil choice. Do not grieve for the dying person; grieve for the one living in sin! 12. Would you like me to mention another reason we fear death? We do not live with discipline or keep a clear conscience. If we did, nothing would alarm us: neither death, nor famine, nor the loss of wealth, nor anything else of the kind. Someone who lives virtuously cannot be harmed by any of these things or deprived of his inner joy. Sustained by hopeful expectations, he cannot be thrown into dejection by anything. What could anyone possibly do to make a noble-minded person sorrowful? Take away his riches? He still has wealth in heaven! Drive him out of his country? He will travel to the city above! Load him with chains? His conscience is still free, and he is unmoved by the outward chain! Put his body to death? He will rise again! Just as someone fighting a shadow and beating the air cannot hit anyone, so someone at war with the righteous person merely strikes at a shadow and wastes his own strength without being able to harm him. Let me be certain of the kingdom of heaven, then, and kill me today if you wish. I will thank you for the slaughter, since you are sending me quickly into possession of those blessings! “But this,” someone says, “is precisely what we lament: hindered by our many sins, we will not reach that kingdom.” If that is so, stop lamenting death and lament your sins, so that you may be freed from them! Grief came into existence so that we could use it to remove our sins, not to mourn the loss of wealth, death, or anything else of that kind. I will make this clear with an example. Healing medicines have been made only for the diseases they can remove, not for those they cannot help at all. For instance (I want to make the matter still clearer), if a medicine can help only an eye disease and no other illness, we could rightly say it was made only for the eyes, not for the stomach, the hands, or any other part of the body. Let us apply this argument to grief. We will find that, among all the things that happen to us, it helps with nothing except correcting sin. This makes it clear that it came into existence only to destroy sin. Let us now examine each of the evils that happen to us, apply dejection as a remedy, and see what benefit it brings. 13. Someone is fined and loses property. He becomes sad, but this does not make up for his loss. Someone has lost a son. He grieves, but he cannot raise the dead or help the departed. Someone has been whipped, beaten, and insulted. He becomes sorrowful, but this does not undo the insult. Someone falls ill with a very serious disease. He is dejected, but this does not remove his disease; it only makes it worse. Do you see that sadness serves no useful purpose in any of these cases? Suppose someone has sinned and is sad. He blots out the sin; he is freed from the transgression. How is this shown? By the Lord’s declaration. Speaking of someone who had sinned, He said, “Because of his iniquity I made him sad for a while; and I saw that he was grieved and went about downcast; and I healed his ways.” That is also why Paul says, “Godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, with no cause for regret.” What I have said clearly shows that grief cannot relieve the loss of riches, insult, abuse, beatings, sickness, death, or anything else of the kind. It can blot out and remove only sin, so it is clear that this is the only reason it exists. Let us therefore stop grieving over the loss of wealth and grieve only when we sin. For in that case, sorrow brings great benefit. Have you been fined? Do not be dejected, for it will do you no good. Have you sinned? Then be sorry, for that is beneficial. And consider God’s skill and wisdom. Sin brought forth these two things for us: sorrow and death. For He says, “On the day you eat, you will surely die”; and to the woman, “In sorrow you will bear children.” Through both of these things He took away sin and arranged for the mother to be destroyed by her offspring. That death as well as grief takes away sin is clear, first of all, from the martyrs. It is also plain from what Paul says to those who had sinned: “For this reason many among you are weak and sick, and many sleep.” Because you have sinned, he observes, you die, so that through death you are freed from sin. That is why he goes on to say, “For if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged. But when we are judged, we are disciplined by the Lord, so that we will not be condemned with the world.” Just as a worm is born from wood and devours the wood, and a moth consumes the wool from which it originates, so grief and death were born from sin and devour sin. 14. Let us not fear death, then, but fear only sin and grieve over it. I say these things without expecting anything fearful—God forbid! I want you, whenever you are alarmed, always to respond this way and actually fulfill Christ’s law. For Christ says, “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me.” He said this so that we would always keep death before our eyes, not so that we would carry wood on our shoulders. That is how Paul died daily, laughed at death, and despised the present life. For you are a soldier, always standing ready for battle; but a soldier afraid of death will never perform a noble deed. In the same way, a Christian afraid of dangers will never do anything great or admirable. Beyond that, he will be prone to being easily defeated. But a bold and noble-minded person is different. He remains impregnable and unconquerable. Just as the Three Children escaped the fire when they did not fear it, so we too will escape death entirely if we do not fear it. They did not fear the fire, for being burned is no crime; but they feared sin, for committing impiety is a crime. Let us imitate them and all such people, and let us not be afraid of dangers. Then we will pass safely through them. 15. As for me, “I am not a prophet or the son of a prophet,” yet I clearly understand this much about the future, and I proclaim it loudly and distinctly: if we change, give some care to our souls, and stop doing evil, nothing will be unpleasant or painful. I know this plainly from God’s love for humanity and from what He has done for individuals, cities, nations, and whole populations. For He threatened the city of Nineveh and said, “There are three days left, and Nineveh will be overthrown.” What then, I ask? Was Nineveh overthrown? Was the city destroyed? No, the very opposite happened: it rose and became still more distinguished. Though a long time has passed, it has not erased the city’s glory; we all still celebrate and admire it today. From that time on, it has been a wonderful harbor for all who have sinned, keeping them from sinking into despair and calling everyone to repentance. Through what it did and the favor it received from God, it persuades people never to despair of their salvation, but to live the best life they can and, holding a good hope before them, to trust that the outcome will certainly be favorable. Who would not be stirred by hearing such an example, even the laziest person alive? 16. God even preferred His own prediction to fall to the ground rather than the city to fall. Or rather, even then the prophecy did not fall to the ground. If the sentence had failed to take effect while the people persisted in the same wickedness, someone might perhaps have challenged what was said. But if God turned from His anger when they changed and stopped doing evil, who can still find fault with the prophecy or prove the words false? The very law God had established from the beginning and announced to everyone through the prophet was strictly observed on that occasion. What is this law? “I will pronounce a sentence,” He says, “concerning a nation or a kingdom, to uproot it, tear it down, and destroy it; and if they repent of their evil, I too will repent of the anger I said I would bring upon them.” By keeping this law, He saved those who turned back and released from His anger those who stopped their wickedness. He knew the virtue of the barbarians; that is why He hurried the prophet there. The city was shaken when it heard the prophet’s voice, but its fear benefited it instead of harming it. That fear was the cause of its safety. The threat brought deliverance from danger. The sentence of overthrow stopped the overthrow. What a strange and astonishing event! The sentence threatening death brought forth life! Once announced, the sentence was canceled—the very opposite of what happens with earthly judges! In their case, announcing the sentence puts it into effect and fully confirms it. With God, by contrast, announcing the sentence caused it to be canceled. If it had not been announced, the offenders would not have heard; if they had not heard, they would not have repented; and if they had not repented, they would not have averted the punishment or gained that astonishing deliverance. How could it be anything less than astonishing when the judge pronounces sentence and the condemned nullify it by their repentance? They did not flee the city as we are doing now. They stayed in it and caused it to stand. It was a trap, and they made it a fortress! It was a chasm and a precipice, and they turned it into a tower of safety! They heard that the buildings would fall, yet they did not flee the buildings; they fled their sins. They did not each leave their house, as we do now, but each left their evil way. For they said, “Why should we think the walls have brought on the anger? We are the cause of the wound; we should therefore provide the medicine.” So they trusted for safety in a change of habits rather than a change of homes. 17. That is what the barbarians did! Aren’t we ashamed? Shouldn’t we hide our faces when, instead of changing our habits as they did, we change only our homes, secretly moving our goods and acting like drunken people? Our Master is angry with us, and we neglect to appease His anger while carrying our household belongings from place to place and running here and there, looking for somewhere to deposit our property. We should instead be looking for somewhere to place our soul in safety. Or rather, we should entrust its safety to virtue and an upright life without searching. If we were angry and displeased with a servant, and instead of answering our displeasure he went down to his room, collected his clothes, bundled up all his belongings, and planned to flee, we could not meekly tolerate such contempt. Let us stop this ill-timed effort, then, and let each of us say to God, “Where can I go from Your Spirit, and where can I flee from Your presence?” Let us imitate the spiritual wisdom of the barbarians. They repented even without certainty! The sentence contained no clause saying, “If you turn and repent, I will establish the city,” but simply, “Three days more, and Nineveh will be overthrown.” What did they say, then? “Who knows whether God will repent of the evil He said He would do to us?” Who knows? They do not know how things will end, yet they do not neglect repentance! They do not know God’s way of showing mercy, yet they change on the strength of uncertainties! They could not look to other Ninevites who had repented and been saved. They had not read prophets, heard patriarchs, received counsel, or received any warnings. Nor had they convinced themselves that repentance would certainly appease God. The threat did not imply this. They were doubtful and uncertain about it, yet they repented with all diligence. What excuse, then, can we offer when those who had no grounds for confidence in the outcome showed such a great change, while you, who have grounds for confidence in God’s mercy, have frequently received many pledges of His care, have heard prophets and apostles, and have been taught by actual events, still make no effort to match their virtue? Their virtue was certainly great! But God’s mercy was far greater! This can be seen from the very severity of the threat. That is why God did not add to the declaration, “But if you repent, I will spare you”: by announcing an unconditional sentence, He intended to increase their fear and, by increasing their fear, compel them to repent more quickly. 18. The prophet is ashamed, foreseeing the outcome and suspecting that what he prophesied will remain unfulfilled. God, however, is not ashamed. He desires only one thing, the salvation of humanity, and He corrects His own servant. When the prophet boarded the ship, He immediately raised a stormy sea there, so that you might know that where there is sin, there is a storm; where there is disobedience, there are surging waves. The city was shaken because of the Ninevites’ sins, and the ship was shaken because of the prophet’s disobedience. So the sailors threw Jonah into the deep, and the ship was saved. Let us drown our sins, then, and our city will certainly be safe! Flight will surely do us no good, for it did him no good; on the contrary, it harmed him. He fled the land, but he did not flee God’s anger. He fled the land, but he brought the storm after him onto the sea. Far from benefiting from his flight, he plunged those who received him into the gravest danger as well. While he sat sailing in the ship, he was in the utmost danger, even though the sailors, pilots, and all the ship’s necessary equipment were present. But after being thrown into the deep and putting away his sin through the punishment, he was carried into that unstable vessel—I mean the whale’s belly—and enjoyed great safety. This was to teach you that just as no ship can help someone living in sin, so the sea cannot drown, nor monsters destroy, someone who has put away his sin. Indeed, the waves received him but did not suffocate him. The whale received him but did not destroy him. Both the animal and the element gave back to God unharmed what had been entrusted to them. Through all these things, the prophet was taught to be humane and merciful, and not more cruel than wild beasts, thoughtless sailors, or unruly waves. Even the sailors did not give him up immediately, but only under great compulsion; and the sea and the monster guarded him with great kindness. All these things were under God’s direction. 19. So he returned. He preached; he threatened; he persuaded; he preserved; he frightened; he reformed; he established—all through a single sermon, his very first! He did not need many days or continued counsel. By speaking only these simple words, he brought everyone to repentance! That is why God did not lead him directly from the ship into the city. Instead, the sailors entrusted him to the sea; the sea to the whale; the whale to God; and God to the Ninevites. By this long detour He brought back the fugitive, to teach everyone that it is impossible to flee God’s hands. Wherever anyone may wander, dragging his sin after him, he will have to suffer a thousand evils. Even if no mortal is present, all creation will rise up fiercely against him on every side! Let us seek safety, then, through a change in moral character rather than flight. Is God angry with you for staying in the city, so that you should flee? He is indignant because you have sinned. Put away the sin, then, and where the opening of your wound lies, divert the source of the evil. Physicians, too, direct us to cure opposites with opposites. Is a fever caused by eating heavily, for instance? They treat the disease by restricting food. Does someone become ill from sadness? They say that cheerfulness is the right medicine. We should act the same way with diseases of the soul. Has apathy provoked anger? Let us shake it off with zeal and show a great change in our conduct. We have the fast, a very great helper and ally in our warfare. Besides the fast, we have the impending distress and the fear of danger. Now, then, at this fitting time, let us work on the soul. We will easily persuade it to do whatever we choose, since someone who is alarmed and trembling, freed from all luxury, and living in terror can practice moral wisdom without difficulty and receive the seeds of virtue with great eagerness. 20. Let us therefore persuade the soul to make this first change for the better by avoiding oaths. Although I spoke to you yesterday and the day before about this same subject, I will not stop giving this counsel today, tomorrow, or the day after. And why do I say tomorrow and the following day? I will not stop until I see that you have changed. If those who break this law are not ashamed, we who tell them not to break it should feel even less shame about repeating the warning so often. Constantly reminding people of the same subjects is the fault of the listeners rather than the speaker, since they need continual instruction in simple commandments that are easy to obey. What is easier than not swearing? It is simply a good habit to develop. It requires neither bodily labor nor spending money. Do you want to learn how to overcome this weakness and free yourself from this evil habit? I will tell you a particular method that, if you follow it, will certainly enable you to master it. If you see yourself or someone else—one of your servants, your children, or your wife—caught in this vice, and repeated reminders have not brought change, order them to go to bed without supper. Impose this sentence on yourself as well as on them, a sentence that will bring benefit rather than harm. Such is the nature of spiritual acts: they bring benefit and swift reform. When the tongue is constantly punished, distressed by thirst and pained by hunger, it receives enough warning even without anyone to remind it. Even if we were the most foolish people alive, being reminded this way by the severity of the punishment throughout a whole day would leave us needing no other counsel or encouragement. 21. You have applauded what I said. But show me your applause through deeds as well. Otherwise, what is the benefit of our meeting here? Suppose a child went to school every day but learned nothing more from it. Would the excuse that he went there every day satisfy us? Wouldn’t we consider it the greatest fault that he went daily without accomplishing anything? Let us think this over and say to ourselves: For so long we have gathered at church and benefited from a most solemn Communion that holds so much benefit. If we return just as we came, with none of our faults corrected, what good is our coming here? Most actions are done for the results they produce rather than for their own sake. For example, the sower sows in order to reap as well, not merely for the sake of sowing. If no harvest followed, the sowing would be a loss, with the seeds rotting to no purpose. The merchant takes a voyage to increase his wealth by traveling abroad, not merely for the sake of sailing. If he fails to achieve that as well, great harm results, and the merchants’ voyage brings only loss. Let us apply this to ourselves. We too gather in church so that we can return having gained a great spiritual benefit, not merely to spend time here. If we leave empty, having gained nothing, our very diligence becomes our condemnation! To prevent this and the great harm it brings, when you leave this place, let friends practice with one another, fathers with children, and masters with servants. Train yourselves to carry out the task assigned to you, so that when you return and hear us advising you on these same subjects, an accusing conscience will not put you to shame. Instead, you will rejoice and be glad as you recognize that you have carried out most of the instruction. 22. Let us not discuss these moral lessons only here. This brief warning is not enough to root out the whole evil. At home as well, let the husband hear about these things from his wife, and the wife from her husband. Let everyone compete, in a way, to be first in fulfilling this law. Let the one who has advanced and corrected his conduct reproach the one still lagging behind, to stir him up all the more with these taunts. Let the one who falls short and has not yet corrected his conduct look at the one who has outstripped him and eagerly strive to catch up quickly. If we take this advice and give these matters close attention, our other affairs will soon be put in order. Attend to God’s business, and He will take care of yours! And do not say to me, “What if someone forces us to take oaths? What if he will not believe us?” When a law is being broken, it is certainly wrong to appeal to necessity, since there is only one necessity that cannot be set aside: not offending God! But I will say this as well: for now, cut out unnecessary oaths, those taken pointlessly and without any need, those spoken to your family, friends, and servants. If you remove these, you will no longer need me for the others. For a mouth well trained to dread and avoid frequent oaths would never consent to fall back into the same habit, even if someone pressured it a thousand times. As things are now, even with much effort and relentless urging, with warnings, threats, encouragement, and counsel, we have barely managed to bring it to a different habit. In that future case, however, no matter how great a necessity someone imposed, he could not persuade it to break this law. Just as a person would never choose to take a particular poison, however urgent the necessity, so he would never choose to utter an oath! 23. If this change takes place, it will encourage and spur you on to attain the remaining virtues. Someone who has accomplished nothing becomes apathetic and quickly falls. But someone aware that he has fulfilled even one commandment gains good hope from it and proceeds more eagerly toward the rest. After achieving one, he will soon reach another, and he will not stop until he has attained the crown of them all. If the more wealth someone gains, the more he desires, this is even truer of spiritual achievements. That is why I hurry and press for this work to begin and for the foundation of virtue to be laid in your souls. We pray and beg you to remember these words not only now, but at home, in the marketplace, and wherever you spend your time. If only I could speak with you personally and informally! Then this long speech of mine would have been unnecessary. But since that cannot be, remember my words in my place. While you sit at the table, imagine me entering, standing beside you, and repeating insistently what I am saying to you here. Whenever you speak about me among yourselves, remember this commandment above all, and give me this return for my love toward you. If I see that you have fulfilled it, I have received my full return and enough reward for my labors. To make us more active, then, and to enjoy good hope yourselves and carry out the remaining commandments more easily, treasure this commandment in your souls with great care. Then you will understand the benefit of this instruction. A garment embroidered with gold is beautiful and striking, but it seems much more so when we wear it ourselves. In the same way, God’s commandments are beautiful when praised, but appear far more lovely when rightly practiced. Now you praise what is said for a brief moment, but if you put it into practice, you will praise both yourselves and us all day long and throughout your lives. And the greatest thing is not that we will praise one another, but that God will accept us—and not only accept us, but reward us with gifts that are great and beyond words! May we all be considered worthy of these through the grace and loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.