Homilies on Romans, Homily 8

“What then shall we say that Abraham, our father according to the flesh, has found? For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God.” He had said (5 mss. εἶπεν) that the world had become guilty before God, that all had sinned, that boasting was excluded, and that it was impossible to be saved except by faith. Now he sets out to show that this salvation, far from being a reason for shame, actually brings glorious honor, greater than the honor that comes through works. For being saved, but with shame, would have something discouraging about it, so he next removes this suspicion too. Indeed, he has already hinted at this by calling it not simply salvation, but “righteousness. In it,” he says, “the righteousness of God is revealed.” (Rom. i. 17.) For someone who is saved as a righteous person has confidence along with his salvation. And he calls it not only “righteousness,” but also a display of God's righteousness. But God is displayed in things that are glorious, radiant, and great. Still, he supports this from the subject he is now discussing and advances his argument through questions. He regularly does this both to make things clear and to give confidence in what he says. Earlier, for example, he did this when he said, “What advantage then does the Jew have?” (ib. iii. 1.) and, “What more, then, do we have than they?” (ib. 9) and again, “Where then is boasting? It is excluded” (Rom. iii. 27): and here, “What then shall we say that Abraham our father?” etc. Now since the Jews kept returning again and again to the fact that the Patriarch and friend of God was the first to receive circumcision, he wants to show that he too was justified by faith. This was a point that gave him an overwhelming advantage (περιουσία νίκης πολλἥς). For it was not surprising that someone who had no works should be justified by faith. But for someone richly adorned with good deeds to be made righteous, not through these, but through faith—this is astonishing and makes the power of faith shine clearly. This is why he passes over everyone else and takes his argument back to this man. He calls him “father according to the flesh” to exclude them from genuine kinship (συγγενείας γνησίας) with him and to open the way for the Gentiles to become his relatives. Then he says, “For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God.” After saying that God “justified the circumcised by faith and the uncircumcised through faith,” and establishing this firmly enough in what he said before, he now proves it through Abraham more clearly than he promised. He sets faith against works in battle and makes this righteous man the subject of the whole struggle, with a particular purpose. That is why he gives him such a high position by calling him “forefather,” compelling them to agree with him on every point. For, he means, do not tell me about the Jews or bring this man or that before me. I will go back to the very head of them all, the source from which circumcision began. “For if Abraham,” he says, “was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God.” What he says here is not clear, so we must make it clearer. There are two kinds of “boasting,” one in works and one in faith. After saying, “If he was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God,” he shows that he could also have something to boast about from faith, and a much greater reason for it. Paul's great power is especially evident here: he turns the objection around and shows that what seemed to favor salvation by works—namely, boasting or speaking confidently (παρρησιάζεσθαι)—belongs much more truly to salvation by faith. For someone who boasts in his works can point to his own labor. But someone who finds his honor in having faith in God has a much greater basis for boasting to show, because he glorifies and magnifies God. For by accepting through faith in Him things that the nature of the visible world does not tell him, he both displays sincere love toward Him and clearly proclaims His power. This is the character of the noblest soul, a spirit guided by wisdom, and an elevated mind. For refraining from stealing and murder is a small achievement, but believing that God can do impossible things requires a soul of considerable stature and deep devotion to Him, for this is a sign of sincere love. Someone who fulfills the commandments certainly honors God, but someone who pursues wisdom (φιλοσοφὥν) in this way through faith honors Him much more. The former obeys Him, but the latter forms a fitting understanding of Him, glorifies Him, and feels a greater wonder at Him than works display. For the former kind of boasting belongs to the person who acts rightly, but the latter glorifies God and rests entirely in Him. Such a person boasts in conceiving great things about Him, things that contribute to His glory. This is why he speaks of having something to boast about before God. And there is another reason as well: the believer boasts not only because he sincerely loves God, but also because he has received great honor and love from God. For just as he shows his love for Him by thinking great things about Him (for this is proof of love), so God also shows His love for him, even though he deserves to suffer for countless sins, not only by freeing him from punishment, but even by making him righteous. So he has something to boast about, since he has been considered worthy of such great love. Ver. 4. “Now to someone who works, the reward is credited not as grace, but as a debt.” Does this mean that the latter is the greatest thing? he asks. Certainly not, for it is credited to the believer. But it would not have been credited unless he had contributed something himself. So he too has God as his debtor, and for things that are no small matter, but great and exalted. For to show his noble spirit and spiritual understanding, he does not simply say “to someone who believes,” but Ver. 5. “To someone who believes in Him Who justifies the ungodly.” For consider how great a thing it is to be convinced and fully confident that God can suddenly not only free someone who has lived in ungodliness from punishment, but even make him righteous and consider him worthy of those immortal honors. So do not suppose that this person is placed lower because what the former receives is not credited as grace. For this is precisely what makes the believer glorious: that he receives such great grace and displays such great faith. Notice, too, that what he receives in return is greater. The former receives a reward; the latter, righteousness. Now righteousness is much greater than a reward. For righteousness is something given in return that encompasses many rewards to the fullest extent. So after proving this from Abraham, he also introduces David to testify in support of his statement. What then does David say? Whom does he pronounce blessed? The person who triumphs in works, or the person who has received grace? The person who has received pardon and a gift? And when I speak of blessedness, I mean the greatest of all good things. For just as righteousness is greater than a reward, blessedness is greater than righteousness. Having shown that righteousness is better, not only because Abraham received it but also through argument (for he has something to boast about, he says, before God), he again uses another way to show that it is more honorable, bringing in David to testify on this side. For he too, Paul says, pronounces the person made righteous in this way blessed, saying, Ver. 7. “Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven.” He seems to be introducing testimony that is beside the point. For it does not say, Blessed are those whose faith is credited as righteousness. But he does this deliberately, not by mistake, to show its even greater superiority. For if someone who has received forgiveness by grace is blessed, much more is someone who is made righteous and displays faith. For where there is blessedness, all shame is removed and there is great glory, since blessedness is a higher degree of both reward and glory. This is why he states the advantage of the other person without a written quotation: “Now to someone who works, the reward is credited not as grace.” But to prove the advantage of the faithful person, he brings in scriptural testimony, saying, As David says, “Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven and whose sins are covered.” What, he means, are you saying? That “he receives forgiveness not as a debt, but as grace”? But look: this is the person who is pronounced blessed. For David would not have pronounced him blessed unless he saw him enjoying great glory. And he does not then say that this “forgiveness” comes upon the circumcised. What does he say instead? Ver. 9. “Does this blessedness then” (which is the greater thing) “come upon the circumcised or upon the uncircumcised?” For the question now is, With whom is this great and good thing found? With the circumcised or with the uncircumcised? And notice its superiority! He shows that, far from avoiding the uncircumcised, it gladly lived with them even before circumcision. For since David, who pronounced this blessedness, was himself circumcised and was speaking to circumcised people, see how eagerly Paul argues for applying his words to the uncircumcised. After connecting the declaration of blessedness with righteousness and showing that they are one and the same thing, he asks how Abraham became righteous. For if the declaration of blessedness belongs to the righteous, and Abraham was made righteous, let us see how he was made righteous: while uncircumcised or circumcised? While uncircumcised, he says. “For we say that faith was credited to Abraham as righteousness.” After referring to Scripture above (for he said, “What does Scripture say? Abraham believed in God, and it was credited to him as righteousness”), he now goes on to secure the agreement of those speaking and shows that justification took place while he was uncircumcised. Then, on these grounds, he answers another objection that is arising. For someone might say, If he was justified while uncircumcised, why was circumcision introduced? Ver. 11. “He received it,” he says, “as a sign and seal of the righteousness that came through the faith he had while still uncircumcised.” Do you see how he shows that the Jews, rather than the uncircumcised, are something like parasites (i.e. guests), and that they were added to the others? For if he was justified and crowned while uncircumcised, the Jews came in afterward. Abraham is therefore the father first of the uncircumcised who belong to him through faith, and then of the circumcised. For he is the forefather of two lines. Do you see faith shining out? For until it came, the Patriarch was not justified. Do you see that uncircumcision creates no obstacle? For he was uncircumcised, yet this did not prevent him from being justified. Circumcision therefore comes after faith. And why be surprised that it comes after faith, when it even comes after uncircumcision? It not only comes after faith but is far inferior to it, as far as a sign is inferior to the reality it signifies—for example, as the seal is to the soldier. (See Hom. iii. on 2 Cor. at the end.) And why, he asks, did he need a seal then? He himself did not need it. Why then did he receive it? So that he might be the father alike of those who believe while uncircumcised and those who believe while circumcised. But not of the circumcised without qualification. That is why he goes on to say, “To those who are not only circumcised.” For even in the case of the uncircumcised, he is not their father because he is uncircumcised, although he was justified while uncircumcised, but because they imitated his faith. Much less, then, is circumcision the reason he is the forefather of the circumcised, unless faith is added too. For he says that the reason he received circumcision was so that both of our two groups might have him as a forefather, and so that the uncircumcised might not push aside the circumcised. See how the former had him as their forefather first. Now if circumcision has dignity because it proclaims righteousness, uncircumcision itself has a considerable advantage in having received righteousness before circumcision. You will be able to have him as a forefather when you walk in the footsteps of that faith and do not quarrel or cause division by introducing the Law. What faith? Tell me. Ver. 12. “Which he had while still uncircumcised.” Here again he brings down the Jews' pride by reminding them of the time when justification took place. And he rightly says “the steps,” so that you, like Abraham, may believe in the resurrection of dead bodies. For he too displayed his faith on this point. So if you reject uncircumcision, know for certain that circumcision is no longer of any use to you. For if you do not follow in the steps of his faith, even if you were circumcised ten thousand times, you would not be Abraham's offspring. For he himself received circumcision for this purpose: so that the uncircumcised person would not reject you. So do not demand this of him too. It was meant to help you, not him. But he calls it a sign of righteousness. This too was for your sake, since now it is not even that: you needed bodily signs then, but now there is no need for them. “Wasn't it possible,” someone might ask, “to learn the goodness of his soul from his faith?” Yes, it was possible, but you needed this addition too. For since you did not imitate the goodness of his soul and could not see it, you were given a visible circumcision. In this way, after becoming accustomed to this bodily practice, you could gradually be led to the true love of wisdom in the soul as well, and, by receiving it very earnestly as a great privilege, you could be taught to imitate and revere your ancestor. God had this purpose not only in circumcision, but in all the other rites as well—I mean the sacrifices, the sabbath, and the feasts. Now learn from what follows that he received circumcision for your sake. After saying that he received a sign and a seal, he also gives the reason: so that he might be the father of the circumcised—of those who also received spiritual circumcision, since if you have only this (i.e. the carnal), no further good will come to you. For it is a sign when the reality it signifies is found in you, namely faith. If you do not have this, the sign no longer has the power of a sign for you. For what does it signify? What does it seal, when there is nothing to be sealed? It is much as if you showed someone a sealed purse with nothing stored inside. So circumcision is ridiculous if there is no faith within. For if it is a sign of righteousness, but you do not have righteousness, you have no sign either. You received a sign so that you would diligently seek the reality it signifies. So if you had been certain to seek that reality diligently without it, you would not have needed it. But righteousness is not the only thing circumcision proclaims: it proclaims righteousness even in an uncircumcised man. Circumcision, then, simply proclaims that there is no need for circumcision. Ver. 14. “For if those who belong to the Law are heirs, faith is made void and the promise is made ineffective.” He had shown that faith is necessary, that it is older than circumcision, that it is more powerful than the Law, and that it establishes the Law. For if everyone sinned, it was necessary. If someone was justified while uncircumcised, it is older. If the knowledge of sin comes through the Law, and yet righteousness was revealed without the Law, faith is more powerful. If the Law testifies to it and it establishes the Law, it is not opposed to the Law, but friendly and allied to it. Again, he shows on other grounds too that it was not even possible to obtain the inheritance through the Law. After matching faith against circumcision and winning the victory for it, he also contrasts it with the Law in these words: “For if those who belong to the Law are heirs, faith is made void.” To prevent anyone from saying that one can have faith and also maintain the Law, he shows that this is impossible. For someone who clings to the Law as though it had the power to save belittles the power of faith. So he says, “Faith is made void,” meaning that there is no need for salvation by grace. For then faith cannot display its own proper power; “and the promise is made ineffective.” This is because the Jew might say, What need do I have of faith? If this were so, the things promised would be taken away along with faith. See how at every point he argues against them from the earliest times and from the Patriarch. For after showing from those events that righteousness and faith went together in the inheritance, he now shows that the promise did too. To prevent the Jew from saying, What does it matter to me if Abraham was justified by faith? Paul says that even what concerns you, the promise of the inheritance, cannot take effect without it. This was what frightened them most. But what promise is he speaking of? The promise that he would be “the heir of the world,” and that in him everyone would be blessed. And how does he say that this promise is made ineffective? Ver. 15. “Because the Law brings anger: for where there is no Law, there is no transgression.” Now if it brings anger and makes them liable for transgression, it plainly makes them liable to a curse as well. But those who are subject to a curse, punishment, and transgression deserve punishment and rejection, not an inheritance. What happens then? Faith comes, bringing grace with it, so that the promise takes effect. For where there is grace, there is forgiveness, and where there is forgiveness, there is no punishment. So when punishment has been removed and righteousness follows from faith, there is no obstacle to our becoming heirs of the promise. Ver. 16. “Therefore it is by faith,” he says, “so that it might be by grace, so that the promise might be secure for all the offspring.” You see that faith establishes not only the Law, but also God's promise, which it will not allow to fail. The Law, on the other hand, when people cling to it at the wrong time, makes even faith ineffective and obstructs the promise. By this he shows that faith, far from being unnecessary, is so necessary that without it there is no salvation. For the Law brings anger, since everyone has transgressed it. But faith does not even allow anger to arise at all, for “where there is no Law,” he says, “there is no transgression.” Do you see how he not only does away with sin after it has arisen, but does not even allow it to arise? This is why he says “by grace.” For what purpose? Not to put them to shame, but so that the promise might be secure for all the offspring. Here he sets out two blessings: that the things given are secure, and that they belong to all the offspring. In this way he includes the Gentiles and shows that the Jews are outside if they fight against faith. For this is more secure than the other. Faith does you no harm (do not quarrel); instead, even now, when you are in danger from the Law, it protects you. Next, after saying “to all the offspring,” he defines which offspring he means. Those who belong to faith, he says, thus joining them in kinship with the Gentiles and showing that those who do not believe as Abraham did must not take pride in him. And see a third thing that faith accomplished besides these. It makes the relationship to that righteous man more definite (ἀκρι βεστέραν) and presents him as the ancestor of more numerous descendants. This is why he does not simply say Abraham, but “our father,” the father of us who believe. Then he also confirms what he has said with this testimony— Ver. 17. “As it is written,” he says, “I have made you a father of many nations.” Do you see that Providence arranged this long ago? What then, he means, does He say this because of the Ishmaelites, the Amalekites, or the Hagarenes? As he goes on, however, he proves more clearly that this was not said about them. For now he presses on to another point, and by doing so proves this very thing, defining the nature of the relationship and establishing it with remarkable breadth of thought. What then does he say? “Before (or, answering to, κατέναντι) Him Whom he believed, God Himself.” His meaning is something like this: just as God is not the God of only some people, but the Father of all, so Abraham is too. Again, just as God is a father through the bond of faith rather than through a natural relationship, so Abraham is too, since obedience makes him the father of us all. For because they thought nothing of this relationship and clung to the more physical one, he shows that this is the truer relationship by raising his argument to God. At the same time, he makes it clear that Abraham received this as the reward of faith. Consequently, if it were not so, and he were the father of everyone living on earth, the expression before (or answering to) would be out of place, and God's gift would be diminished. For “before” means “alike with.” For what is so remarkable, tell me, about a man being the father of those descended from him? That is something every man shares. The extraordinary thing is that he received through God's gift those whom he had not fathered by nature. So if you want to believe that the Patriarch was honored, believe that he is the father of all. But after saying, “Before Him Whom he believed, God Himself,” he does not stop here, but continues: “Who gives life to the dead and calls things that do not exist as though they did.” In this way he lays the groundwork for discussing the resurrection. This also served his present purpose. For if He could “give life to the dead” and bring into existence “things that did not exist as though they did,” He could also make those who were not born from Abraham his children. This is why he does not say bringing into existence the things that do not exist, but calling them, showing how much easier it is. For just as it is easy for us to call existing things by name, it is easy for Him—indeed, much easier—to give existence to things that do not exist. But after saying that God's gift was great and beyond description, and discussing His power, he further shows that Abraham's faith deserved the gift, so that you will not suppose he was honored without reason. After gaining his listeners' attention, to prevent the Jew from protesting and raising doubts and saying, “How is it possible for people who are not children to become children?” he turns to the Patriarch and says, Ver. 18. “Who against hope believed in hope, so that he might become the father of many nations, according to what was spoken, So your offspring will be.” How did he “believe in hope against hope”? Against human hope, in the hope that comes from God. (For he is showing how exalted the action was and leaving no room to disbelieve what is said.) These things are opposed to one another, yet faith brings them together. But if he were speaking about Ishmael's descendants, this language would be unnecessary, for they were conceived by nature, not by faith. But he also brings Isaac before us. For Abraham believed not about those nations, but about the son who would come from his barren wife. If being the father of many nations is a reward, it would clearly mean being the father of those nations about whom he believed in this way. To know that he is speaking of them, listen to what follows. Ver. 19. “And without growing weak in faith, he considered his own body, now dead.” Do you see how he presents the obstacles as well as the righteous man's noble spirit, which overcomes them all? What was promised was “against hope,” he says: this is the first obstacle. For Abraham had no one else who had received a son in this way to look to. Those who came after him looked to him, but he could look to no one except God alone. This is why he said “against hope.” Then, “his body, now dead.” This is a second obstacle. And “the deadness of Sarah's womb.” This is a third, indeed even a fourth obstacle. Ver. 20. “But he did not waver at God's promise through unbelief.” For God gave no proof and performed no sign. There were only words promising things for which nature offered no hope. Yet still, he says, “he did not waver.” He does not say, “He did not disbelieve,” but “He did not waver,” meaning that he neither doubted nor hesitated, even though the obstacles were so great. From this we learn that even if God promises countless impossible things and the person who hears does not accept them, the fault lies not in the nature of things, but in the unreasonableness of the person who refuses to accept them. “But he grew strong in faith.” See Paul's persistence. Since this discussion concerned those who work and those who believe, he shows that the believer works more than the other person, needs more power and great strength, and bears no ordinary amount of labor. For they considered faith worthless because it involved no labor. Insisting on this point, he shows that it is not only someone who succeeds in self-control or any other virtue of this kind who needs strength: someone who displays faith needs even greater power. For just as the one needs strength to fight off thoughts urging him toward a lack of self-control, the faithful person needs a powerful soul to push aside the suggestions of unbelief. How then did he become “strong”? By entrusting the matter, he replies, to faith rather than reasoning; otherwise he would have fallen. But how did he grow in faith itself? By giving glory to God, he says. Ver. 21. “And being fully convinced that what He had promised, He was also able to do.” So refraining from prying questions glorifies God, just as indulging in them is a transgression. But if we fail to glorify Him by prying and investigating earthly things, how much more severely will we suffer for our insolence if we pry into the Lord's generation? For if the type of the resurrection is not to be probed, much less are those indescribable and awe-inspiring subjects. And he does not simply use the word “believed,” but “being fully convinced.” For this is what faith is like: it is clearer than proof through reasoning and convinces more fully. No later argument can shake it afterward. Someone convinced by words may also have his conviction changed by words. But someone who rests on faith has from then on fortified his hearing against words that might harm it. So after saying that he was justified by faith, he shows that through this faith he glorified God, something especially characteristic of a good life. For, “Let your light shine before people so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father Who is in heaven.” (Matt. v. 16.) But look! This is shown to belong to faith too! Again, just as works need power, so does faith. For with works, the body often shares the toil, but in faith the good action belongs to the soul alone. So the labor is greater, since it has no one to share its struggles. Do you see how he shows that everything belonging to works belongs to faith in a far greater degree: having something to boast about before God, requiring power and labor, and, again, glorifying God? And after saying that “what He had promised, He is also able to do,” he seems to me to be speaking in advance about things to come. For He promises not only present things, but future things as well. The present things are a type of the others. So unbelief is a sign of a weak, small, and pitiful mind. And when people accuse us of having faith, let us in turn accuse them of lacking faith, as pitiful, small-minded, foolish, weak, and no better in disposition than donkeys. For just as belief belongs to a lofty and noble soul, unbelief belongs to a thoroughly unreasonable and worthless soul, one that has sunk drowsily (κατενηνεγμένης) into the senselessness of animals. So let us leave these people behind, imitate the Patriarch, and glorify God as he gave Him glory. And what does “gave Him glory” mean? He kept His majesty and His boundless power in mind. Having formed a right understanding of Him, he was also “fully convinced” about His promises. So let us glorify Him through faith as well as works, so that we too may receive the reward of being glorified by Him. “For those who glorify Me, I will glorify” (1 Sam. ii. 30), He says. Indeed, even if there were no reward, the very privilege of glorifying God would itself be a glory. For if people take pride in the mere fact of praising kings, even if nothing else comes of it, consider how glorious it must be for our Lord to be glorified by us, and, in turn, how great a punishment it must bring to cause Him to be blasphemed through us. Yet He wants even this glorification to happen for our sake, since He Himself does not need it. For how great a distance do you suppose there is between God and humanity? As great as the distance between people and worms? Or as great as that between Angels and worms? But even when I mention a distance that great, I have not expressed it at all, since it is impossible to express its greatness. Now, would you want a great and distinguished reputation among worms? Surely not. If you, who love glory, would not want this, how could He, Who is free from this passion and so much further above us, need glory from you? Nevertheless, although He has no need of it, He still says He desires it for your sake. For if He endured becoming a slave for your sake, why be surprised that for the same reason He also claims these other things? He considers nothing unworthy of Himself that can contribute to our salvation. Since we know this, let us avoid sin altogether, because it causes Him to be blasphemed. For it says, “Flee from sin as from the face of a serpent: if you come too near it, it will bite you” (Ecclus. xxi. 2). For sin does not come to us; we abandon our place and go over to its side. God has arranged things so that the Devil cannot overpower us by force (Gr. tyranny), since otherwise no one could have withstood his might. This is why He assigned him a distant dwelling, like a robber and tyrant. And unless he finds someone unarmed and alone to assault, he does not dare attack him. Unless he sees us traveling through the desert, he does not have the courage to come near us. But the Devil's desert and dwelling place is nothing other than sin. So we need the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, not only to keep us from being harmed, but so that whenever he intends to spring upon us, we may cut off his head. We need continual prayer so that he may be crushed under our feet, for he is shameless and full of audacity, even though he fights from below. Yet even so he wins the victory, because we are not earnestly determined to remain above his blows. For he does not even have the power to raise himself very high, but crawls along the ground. The serpent is a type of this. But if God assigned him that position from the beginning, much more will He do so now. If you do not know what fighting from below means, I will try to explain this kind of warfare to you. What then is this fighting “from below” (John viii. 23)? It means taking his stand on the lower things of the world to strike us: pleasure, riches, and all the good things of this life. So whenever he sees someone flying toward heaven, first, he will not even be able to leap that far. Second, even if he tries, he will quickly fall. For he has no feet; do not be afraid. He has no wings; have no fear. He crawls along the earth and earthly things. So have nothing in common with the earth, and you will not even need to struggle. For he knows nothing of open combat. Like a serpent, he hides in the thorns, always nestling in the “deceitfulness of riches.” (Matt. xiii. 22.) If you cut away the thorns, he will easily be driven off once exposed. And if you know how to charm him with the inspired charms, he will immediately be struck. For we have—we certainly have—spiritual charms: the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ and the power of the Cross. This charm will not only bring the serpent out of his hiding places and throw him into the fire (Acts xxviii. 5), but will even heal wounds. But if some people who have spoken this Name have not been healed, that came from their own little faith, not from any weakness in what they said. For some people crowded around Jesus and pressed against Him (Luke viii. 44, 45), and received no benefit. But the woman with a discharge of blood, without even touching His Body, but only the hem of His garment, stopped a flow of blood that had lasted so long. (So St. Aug. Serm. LXII. iii. 4, p. 124 O.T.) This Name is terrifying to devils, passions, and diseases alike. Let us find our pleasure in it, and fortify ourselves with it. This is how Paul became great, although he had the same nature as we do, as did the whole choir of the Disciples. But faith had made him a completely different person, and it abounded in them so greatly that even their garments had great power. (Acts xix. 12.) What excuse, then, will we deserve if even those men's shadows and garments drove off death (Acts v. 15), but our very prayers do not so much as subdue our passions? What is the reason? Our disposition is very different. For what nature gives belongs to us just as much as to them. He was born and raised just as we are, lived on the earth, and breathed the air as we do. But in other respects he was far greater and better than we are: in zeal, faith, and love. So let us imitate him. Let us allow Christ to speak through us. He desires it more than we do. This is why He prepared this instrument, and He does not want it to remain unused and idle, but wants to keep it always in His hand. Why then do you fail to make it fit for the Maker's hand, instead letting it become unstrung, slackening it through luxury, and making the whole harp unfit for His use, when you should keep its parts fully stretched, well strung, and tightened with spiritual salt? For if Christ sees our soul tuned in this way, He will produce His sounds through it. And when this happens, you will see Angels leaping for joy, (σκιρτὥντας) and Archangels too, and the Cherubim. So let us become worthy of His spotless hands. Let us invite Him to play upon our heart. In fact, He needs no invitation. Only make it worthy of that touch, and He will be the first to run to you. For if He runs to people in view of attainments they have not yet reached (for even when Paul had not yet advanced so far, He already spoke that praise of him), what will He not do when He sees someone fully prepared? And if Christ sounds forth and the Spirit truly comes upon us, we will be better than heaven, with neither sun nor moon fixed in our body, but the Lord of sun, moon, and angels dwelling and walking in us. I say this not so that we may raise the dead or cleanse lepers, but so that we may display a greater miracle than all these: love. For wherever this glorious thing is found, there the Son makes His home along with the Father, and the grace of the Spirit visits repeatedly. For “where two or three are gathered together in My Name,” it says, “there I am in their midst.” (Matt. xviii. 20.) Now having those they love on either side of them is characteristic of deep affection and very close friends. Who then, he means, is so miserable as not to want Christ in their midst? We who are at odds with one another! Perhaps someone may ridicule me and ask, What do you mean? Don't you see that we are all within the same walls, in the same enclosure of the Church, standing in harmony within the same fold? No one is fighting; we are under the same shepherd, crying out together, listening together to what is said, offering our prayers together—and yet you speak of fighting and discord? I do speak of fighting, and I am neither mad nor out of my senses. For I see what I see, and I know that we are under the same fold and the same shepherd. Yet this is why I grieve all the more: although so many circumstances draw us together, we are at odds. And what conflict, someone will ask, do you see here? Here, truly, I see none. But when we have dispersed, one person accuses another, another openly insults someone, another envies, another cheats, plunders, and acts violently, another indulges in unlawful love, and another devises countless schemes of deceit. If it were possible to open your souls, you would see everything clearly and know that I am not mad. Don't you see that in a military camp, when there is peace, men lay down their weapons and cross into the enemy's camp unarmed and undefended? But when they are protected by weapons, guards, and outposts, when they spend the nights keeping watch and keep fires burning continually, this situation is no longer peace, but war. Now this is what we can see among ourselves. We are on guard against one another, fear one another, and each whisper in our neighbor's ear. If we see anyone else present, we fall silent and hold back everything we were going to say. This is how people behave when they are strictly on their guard, not when they feel secure. “But we do these things,” someone may say, “to avoid being wronged, not to do wrong.” Yes, and this is why I grieve: that although we live among brothers, we need to guard against being wronged, light so many fires, and station guards and outposts! The reason is that falsehood and deceit are widespread, love is continually withdrawing, and war goes on without a truce. As a result, we can find people who trust Gentiles (Greeks) more than Christians. How ashamed we should be of this! How we should weep and mourn over it! “What then,” someone may say, “will happen to me? This or that person has an unpleasant temper and is difficult.” Where then is your religion (Gr. philosophy)? Where are the laws of the Apostles, which tell us to bear one another's burdens? (Gal. vi. 2.) For if you have no idea how to treat your brother well, when will you be able to treat a stranger well? If you have not learned how to treat a member of your own self, when are you likely to draw someone from outside to you and bind him to yourself? But how am I to feel? I am deeply distressed, almost to tears, for I could pour great fountains from my eyes (Jer. ix. 1), as that Prophet says, seeing countless enemies on the plain who cause more suffering than those he saw. For when he saw foreigners coming against them, he said, “My insides! My insides are in pain.” (ib. iv. 19.) But when I see people arrayed under one leader yet standing against one another, biting and tearing their own members, some for money, some for glory, and others for no reason at all ridiculing, mocking, and wounding one another in countless ways, with corpses treated even worse than in war, and only the bare name of brothers left, I myself cannot devise a lament equal to such a catastrophe! Revere, oh revere, this Table in which we all share! (1 Cor. x. 16–18.) Revere Christ, Who was slain for us, the Victim placed upon it! (Heb. xiii. 10.) Once robbers share salt, they stop robbing those with whom they have shared it. That table changes their dispositions and makes men fiercer than wild beasts gentler than lambs. Yet although we share such a Table and such food, we take up arms against one another, when we should arm ourselves against the one who wages war on us all, the devil. This is why we grow weaker and he grows stronger every day. For we do not unite to defend ourselves against him. Instead, we join him in standing against one another and use him as commander of these hostile formations, when he alone is the one we should be fighting. But now we let him pass and draw our bows only against our brothers. What bows, you will ask? Those of the tongue and mouth. For it is not only javelins and darts that wound, but words too, far sharper than darts. And how can we bring this war to an end? someone will ask. By realizing that when you speak ill of your brother, you are throwing mud out of your mouth; that you are slandering a member of Christ; that you are eating your own flesh (Ps. xxvii. 2); that you are making the judgment appointed for you more bitter (terrifying and impossible to corrupt as it is); and that the arrow kills you who shot it, rather than the person it strikes. But perhaps he wronged and injured you? Groan over it, and do not lash out. Weep, not for the wrong done to you, but for his destruction, just as your Master wept over Judas, not because He Himself was to be crucified, but because Judas was a traitor. Has he insulted and abused you? Pray to God for him, so that He may quickly be appeased toward him. He is your brother, a part of your own body, born from the same labor pains as you, invited to the same Table. But he only attacks me again, someone may say. Then your reward is all the greater for it. So this is the best reason to lessen your anger: he has received a mortal wound; the devil has wounded him. Do not strike another blow or throw yourself down with him. As long as you remain standing, you have the means to save him too. But if you throw yourself down by returning his insults with insulting actions, who will lift you both up? The wounded man? No, for he cannot now that he is down. Will you, who have fallen with him? How will you, who could not support yourself, be able to lend someone else a hand? So stand nobly now, hold your shield in front of you, and through your patience draw him away from the battle, dead as he now is. Rage has wounded him; do not wound him too, but pull out even that first arrow. For if we deal with one another on these terms, we will all soon become healthy. But if we take up arms against one another, we will no longer even need the devil to bring about our ruin. For all war is an evil, especially civil war. But this is an even worse evil than civil war, since our obligations to one another are greater than those of citizenship, indeed greater than those of natural kinship itself. Long ago, Abel's brother killed him and shed his kinsman's blood. But this murder is more lawless than that, because the obligations of kinship are greater and the death is a worse evil. For he wounded the body, but you have sharpened your sword against the soul. “But you were wronged first.” Yes, but what truly harms us is doing wrong, not suffering it. Now consider: Cain was the killer, Abel the one killed. Which of them, then, was dead? The one who cries out after death (for He says, “The voice of your brother's blood cries out to Me”) (Gen. iv. 10), or the one who, while alive, was still trembling and afraid? He was—he certainly was—more pitiable than any dead man. Do you see how it is better to be wronged, even if a person is murdered? Learn that it is worse to do wrong, even if a person is strong enough to kill. He struck his brother and threw him down, yet the latter was crowned and the former punished. Abel was destroyed and unjustly killed, but even in death he accused (comp. John v. 45), convicted, and overcame. The other, though alive, was speechless, ashamed, and convicted, and brought about the opposite of what he intended. For he destroyed him because he saw that he was loved, expecting to deprive him of that love as well. Yet he only made the love more intense, and God sought him even more in death, saying, “Where is your brother Abel?” (Gen. iv. 9.) For by your envy you have not extinguished the longing for him, but have kindled it all the more. By killing him you have not diminished his honor, but increased it. Before this, God had even made him subject to you, but since you have killed him, he will take vengeance on you even in death. So great was My love for him. Who then was the condemned person, the punisher or the punished? The one who received such great honor from God, or the one handed over to a strange and unexpected punishment? You did not fear him, He would say, while he was alive; therefore you will fear him when he is dead. You did not tremble when you were about to thrust in the sword. Now that the blood has been shed, you will be seized by continual trembling. While alive he was your servant, and you showed him no mercy. For this reason, now that he is dead, he has become a master whom you will fear. So, beloved, as we think about these things, let us flee from envy, extinguish malice, and repay one another with love, so that we may reap the blessings that come from it, both in the present life and in the life to come, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.