Basil heard this, and after a short pause he replied: If you yourself had been eager to obtain this office, your fear would be reasonable. When a man is eager to take it on, he is admitting that he is qualified to carry it out. If he then fails in it after it has been entrusted to him, he cannot fall back on the plea of inexperience, because he stripped himself of that excuse in advance by hurriedly seizing the ministry. Whoever enters on it willingly and deliberately can no longer say, “I sinned in this matter against my will—and against my will I ruined such and such a soul.” For He who will one day judge him will say to him, “Since you knew you were so inexperienced, and did not have the ability to take this on without incurring reproach, why were you so eager and presumptuous as to take in hand something so far beyond your power? Who forced you to do it? Did you shrink back or run away, and did anyone drag you on by force?” But you will hear nothing like this, because you have nothing of this kind to condemn yourself for. It is obvious to everyone that you were not in the least eager for this dignity, since the whole thing was brought about by others. So the same circumstances that leave those who are eager for this office no chance of pardon when they go wrong in it give you ample grounds for excuse. Chrysostom: At this I shook my head and smiled a little, admiring the man’s simplicity, and said to him: I would indeed wish things were as you say, best of men, but not so that I could accept the office I recently fled. Even if no punishment awaited me for taking on the care of Christ’s flock without due consideration and experience, it would still be worse to me than any punishment to be entrusted with so great a charge and then to prove so contemptible toward Him who entrusted me with it. Why, then, did I wish you were not mistaken in this opinion of yours? Truly for the sake of those wretched and unhappy people (for that is what I must call those who have not found out how to carry out the duties of this office well, even if you were to say ten thousand times over that they were driven to take it on, and that their errors in it are therefore sins of ignorance)—for the sake, I say, of such people, so that they might manage to escape that unquenchable fire, and the outer darkness, and the worm that does not die, and the punishment of being cut in two and perishing along with the hypocrites. But what can I do for you? It is not as you say; no, not at all. And if you like, I will prove what I maintain from the case of a kingdom, which does not count for as much with God as the priesthood. Saul, the son of Kish, was not at all eager to become king himself. He was out looking for his donkeys and came to ask the prophet about them. The prophet, however, went on to speak to him about the kingdom. Even then Saul did not run greedily after it, though he heard about it from a prophet. Instead he drew back and begged off, saying, “Who am I, and what is my father’s house?” What then? When he made bad use of the honor God had given him, were those words of his able to rescue him from the anger of Him who had made him king? And was he able to say to Samuel when Samuel rebuked him: “Did I greedily run and rush after the kingdom and sovereign power? I wanted to live the undisturbed and peaceful life of ordinary people, but you dragged me into this position of honor. If I had stayed in my humble station I would easily have escaped all these stumbling blocks. If I were one of the obscure masses, I would never have been sent out on this expedition, nor would God have put the war against the Amalekites in my hands; and if it had not been put in my hands, I would not have committed this sin”? But all such arguments are weak as excuses—and not only weak, but dangerous, because they actually inflame the anger of God. A man whom God has promoted to great honor must not put forward the greatness of his honor as an excuse for his errors. He should make God’s special favor toward him a reason to improve further. A man who thinks he is free to sin because he has obtained some uncommon dignity is only trying to show that God’s lovingkindness is the cause of his own personal transgression. That is always the argument of people who lead godless and careless lives. But we must in no way think like this, or fall into the insane folly of such people. We should always strive to make the most of whatever powers we have, and to be reverent in both speech and thought. For (to leave the kingdom and come to the priesthood, which is the more immediate subject of our discussion) Eli was not eager to obtain his high office either, yet what good did that do him when he sinned in it? But why do I say obtain it? He could not have avoided it even if he had wanted to, because he was under a legal obligation to accept it. He was of the tribe of Levi, and was bound to take on the high office that came down to him from his ancestors; yet even he paid no small penalty for the lawlessness of his sons. And then there was the very first High Priest of the Jews, about whom God said so much to Moses. When he was unable to stand alone against the frenzy of so great a multitude, did he not come very close to being destroyed, if his brother’s intercession had not turned aside the anger of God? And since we have mentioned Moses, it will be good to show the truth of what we are saying from what happened to him. This same saintly Moses was so far from grasping at the leadership of the Jews that he begged off when it was offered. He declined it when God commanded him to take it, and so provoked the anger of Him who appointed him. And not only then: later, after he had taken up his rule, he would gladly have died to be set free from it. “Kill me,” he says, “if you are going to treat me like this.” But what then? When he sinned at the waters of strife, could these repeated refusals be pleaded as an excuse for him? Could they persuade God to pardon him? And why was he deprived of the promised land? For no other reason, as we all know, than this sin of his. Because of it, that wondrous man was barred from enjoying the same blessings that the people he ruled obtained. After many labors and sufferings, after that indescribable wandering, after so many battles fought and victories won, he died outside the land he had endured so much toil and trial to reach. Though he had weathered the storms of the deep, in the end he never got to enjoy the blessings of the harbor. From this, then, you see that it is not only those who grasp at this office who are left without excuse for the sins they commit in carrying it out, but also those who come to it through the ambitious desire of others. For if those whom God himself chose for this high office, however often they refused it, paid such heavy penalties, and if nothing was able to deliver any of them from this danger—neither Aaron nor Eli, nor that holy man, the saint, the prophet, the wonder-worker, more meek than all the men on the face of the earth, who spoke with God as a man speaks to his friend—then we who fall infinitely short of that great man’s excellence will hardly be able to plead as a sufficient excuse our awareness that we were never eager for the dignity, especially when many of the ordinations these days do not come from the grace of God but are due to human ambition. God chose Judas, and counted him as one of the sacred band, and entrusted to him, as to the rest, the dignity of the apostolic office. Indeed, he gave him something beyond the others: the management of the money. But what of it? Later he abused both these trusts, betraying Him whom he was commissioned to preach, and misusing the money he should have spent well. Did he escape punishment? No—for this very reason he brought even greater punishment on himself, and quite reasonably too. We must not use the high honors God gives us in a way that offends Him, but in a way that pleases Him more. A man who claims exemption from punishment he deserves, because he has been raised to higher honor than others, is acting very much like one of those unbelieving Jews. After hearing Christ say, “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have had sin,” and “If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not have had sin,” such a person would reproach the Savior and benefactor of mankind by replying, “Why, then, did you come and speak? Why did you work miracles? Was it so that you could punish us more?” But these are the words of madness and utter senselessness. The Great Physician did not come to give you up, but to heal you—not to pass you by when you were sick, but to rid you of your disease entirely. But you withdrew yourself from his hands of your own accord; so receive the more severe punishment. If you had submitted to his treatment, you would have been freed from your former illnesses. But if you ran away from him when you saw him coming to help you, you will no longer be able to cleanse yourself of these infirmities. And since you are unable to, you will be punished both for them and also because, for your part, you made God’s concern for your good come to nothing. So we who act like this are not subjected to the same torment after receiving honor from God as before; the torment after is far more severe. A man who has not become good even when he has been treated well deserves all the more bitter punishment. This excuse of yours has now been shown to be weak. It not only fails to save those who take refuge in it but exposes them all the more. So we must provide ourselves with some other means of safety. Basil: Tell me, what is that? As for me, I am hardly master of myself right now; you have reduced me to such fear and trembling by what you have said. Chrysostom: Do not, I beg and implore you, do not be so downcast. For us who are weak, there is safety in not taking on this office at all. For you who are strong there is safety too: it consists in making your hope of salvation depend, after the grace of God, on avoiding every act unworthy of this gift and of God who gave it. Those who obtain this dignity through their own ambition and then abuse the office, whether through laziness, or wickedness, or even inexperience, would certainly deserve the greatest punishment. Not that we should conclude from this that pardon is in store for those who were not ambitious in this way. No, they too are stripped of every excuse. In my judgment, even if ten thousand people were to beg and urge him, a man should pay them no attention. He should first of all search his own heart and examine the whole matter carefully before giving in to their pressure. Now no one would venture to undertake building a house unless he were an architect, nor will anyone attempt to cure sick bodies who is not a skilled physician. Even if many urge him, he will beg off and will not be ashamed to admit his ignorance. And will a man who is going to have the care of so many souls entrusted to him not examine himself beforehand? Will he accept this ministry even if he is the most inexperienced of men, because this person commands him, or that one pressures him, or for fear of offending a third? And if so, how will he avoid throwing himself, together with them, into obvious misery? If he had stayed as he was, he could have been saved, but now he drags others into his own destruction. Where can he hope to find salvation? Where can he obtain pardon? Who will then successfully intercede for us? Those who are now perhaps urging us and forcibly dragging us on? But who will save those very people at such a moment? They too will need intercession in their turn to escape the fire. I am not saying these things to frighten you; I am presenting the matter as it truly is. Hear what the holy Apostle Paul says to Timothy his disciple, his very own and beloved son: “Do not lay hands hastily on anyone, nor share in other people’s sins.” Don’t you see from what great blame, and even vengeance, we have delivered, as far as it was in our power, those who were ready to put us forward for this office?
2. Those who are chosen cannot excuse themselves by saying, “I did not summon myself to this office, nor could I avoid what I did not foresee.” In the same way, it will not be a sufficient plea for those who ordain them to say that they did not know the man who was ordained. The charge against them becomes greater because of their ignorance of the man they put forward, and what seems to excuse them only accuses them all the more. Isn’t it absurd? People who want to buy a slave show him to a physician, require guarantors for the sale, and ask his neighbors for information about him. Even after all this, they still do not venture to buy him without asking for some time to try him out. Yet those who are going to admit someone to so great an office as this give their testimonial and approval loosely and carelessly, without further investigation, just because somebody wishes it, or to win someone’s favor, or to avoid someone else’s displeasure. Who will then successfully intercede for us on that day, when those who ought to defend us need defenders themselves? So the one who is going to ordain ought to make careful inquiry, and much more so the one who is to be ordained. Those who ordain him share his punishment for any sins he may commit in his office. Yet he is so far from escaping vengeance that he will pay an even greater penalty than they—unless those who chose him acted from some worldly motive contrary to what they themselves judged to be right. Suppose they are caught doing this, and have put a man forward on some pretext or other knowing him to be unworthy. Then their punishment will be equal to his; in fact, the punishment may be even greater for those who appointed the unfit man. Whoever gives authority to someone who intends to destroy the Church would certainly be to blame for the outrages that person commits. But if he is guilty of no such thing, and says he was misled by the opinions of others, even then he will not go entirely unpunished, though his punishment will be a little lighter than that of the man who was ordained. What then? It is possible that those who elect may come to the election deceived by a false report. But the one who is elected cannot say, “I do not know myself,” the way others did not know him. He will receive a more severe punishment than those who put him forward, so he should examine himself more carefully than they examine him. If they drag him on in ignorance, he ought to come forward and carefully inform them of anything that might stop them from being misled. And so, having shown himself unfit for approval, he may escape the burden of so high an office. Think of war, trade, farming, and the other areas of this life. When some plan is proposed, the farmer will not undertake to sail the ship, nor the soldier to till the ground, nor the pilot to lead an army, even if threatened with ten thousand deaths. Why is that? Isn’t it plainly this: that each foresees the danger his incompetence would bring? Well then, where the loss concerns trifles, we use so much forethought and refuse to give in to pressure. But where the punishment is eternal, as it is for those who do not know how to handle the priesthood, shall we rush wantonly and thoughtlessly into such great danger, and then put forward the pressing requests of others as our excuse? He who will one day judge us will not accept any such plea. We ought to show far more caution in spiritual matters than in carnal ones. But as it is, we are not found showing even as much caution. For tell me: suppose we took a man to be a craftsman when he was not, and invited him to do a piece of work. He answers the call, sets his hand to the material prepared for the building, ruins the wood and ruins the stone, and builds the house so that it immediately falls to pieces. Would it be a sufficient excuse for him to claim that he had been urged by others and did not come of his own accord? Not at all; and quite reasonably and justly so. He ought to have refused even when others called him. So the man who only ruins wood and stone cannot escape paying the penalty. Is the man who destroys souls and builds the temple of God carelessly to think that the compulsion of others entitles him to escape punishment? Isn’t this utterly absurd? I am leaving aside for now the fact that no one can force a man who is unwilling. But suppose he was subjected to excessive pressure and various cunning schemes, and then fell into a trap. Will this rescue him from punishment? I beg you, let us not deceive ourselves and pretend not to know what is obvious to a mere child. Surely this pretense of ignorance will be of no use on the day of reckoning. You were not eager, you say, to receive this high office, because you were aware of your own weakness. Well and good. Then with the same mind you ought to have turned down the requests of others. Or were you weak and incapable when no one called you, but suddenly competent when people were found ready to offer you this dignity? What ridiculous nonsense! It deserves the most extreme punishment. That is also why the Lord advises the man who wants to build a tower not to lay the foundation before he has taken his own ability to build into account. Otherwise he would give passersby countless opportunities to mock him. But in his case the penalty is only becoming a laughingstock. In the case before us the punishment is unquenchable fire, the undying worm, gnashing of teeth, outer darkness, being cut in two, and having a portion with the hypocrites. But my accusers are unwilling to consider any of these things. Otherwise they would stop blaming a man who does not want to perish for no reason. What we are now considering is not the management of wheat and barley, oxen or sheep, or anything of that kind, but the very Body of Jesus. For the Church of Christ, according to St. Paul, is Christ’s Body. Whoever is entrusted with its care ought to train it into a state of health and indescribable beauty. He must look out in every direction so that no spot or wrinkle or other such blemish mars its vigor and loveliness. For what is this but to make it appear worthy, as far as human power can, of the incorruptible and ever-blessed Head that is set over it? If those who are eager to reach athletic physical condition need the help of physicians and trainers, and a strict diet, and constant exercise, and a thousand other rules (for leaving out even the smallest trifle upsets and spoils the whole thing), how will those who have been given the care of the body that wages its conflict not against flesh and blood but against unseen powers be able to keep it sound and healthy, unless they far surpass ordinary human virtue and are versed in every kind of healing suited to the soul?
3. Tell me, aren’t you aware that that body is subject to more diseases and attacks than this flesh of ours, is corrupted more quickly, and recovers more slowly? Those who heal our physical bodies have discovered various medicines, an array of different instruments, and diets suitable for the sick. Often the state of the air alone is enough for a sick man’s recovery, and there are cases where a well-timed sleep has saved the physician any further work. But in the case before us, none of these things can be taken into account. There is only one method and way of healing appointed once we have gone wrong, and that is the powerful application of the Word. This is the one instrument, the only diet, the best air. This takes the place of medicine, cautery, and surgery. If we need to sear or amputate, this is what we must use, and if this does no good, everything else is wasted. With this we rouse the soul when it is asleep and calm it down when it is inflamed. With this we cut away excesses and fill up deficiencies, and perform every other kind of operation needed for the soul’s health. Now, when it comes to ordering our daily life in the best way, it is true that another person’s life can spur us to imitate it. But when any soul is diseased by false doctrine, there is great need of the Word, not only for the safety of our own people, but in view of the enemy outside. If someone had the sword of the spirit and the shield of faith, so as to be able to work miracles and by means of these wonders to shut the mouths of shameless opponents, he would have little need of the help of the Word. Yet even in the days of miracles the Word was by no means useless, but absolutely necessary. St. Paul used it himself, although he was everywhere such an object of wonder for his miracles. Another member of the “glorious company of the Apostles” urges us to devote ourselves to acquiring this power, when he says: “Always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you for a reason concerning the hope that is in you.” And they all with one accord entrusted the care of the poor widows to Stephen for no other reason than that they themselves might have time “for the ministry of the Word.” We ought to devote ourselves to this just as much, unless we have been endowed with the power to work miracles. But there is not the slightest sign that such a power has been left to us, while many enemies are constantly attacking us on every side. So it necessarily follows that we should arm ourselves with this weapon, both so that we ourselves are not wounded by the enemy’s arrows, and so that we may wound him.
4. That is why we should strive to have the Word of Christ dwell in us richly. We do not have to be prepared for just one kind of battle. This warfare is many-sided and is waged against a great variety of enemies. They do not all use the same weapons or the same method of attack. Whoever has to engage them all must know all their tricks, and be at once archer and slinger, captain and general, soldier in the ranks and commander, foot soldier and cavalryman, fighting at sea and in sieges. In ordinary warfare, each man repels the enemy by carrying out the particular duty he has taken on. But here it is different. Anyone who wants to come out the winner in this warfare must understand every form of the art, since the devil knows well how to slip his own attackers in through any single spot that happens to be unguarded, and carry off the sheep. But not so when he sees the shepherd coming equipped with accurate knowledge at every point and well acquainted with his schemes. So we ought to be well guarded on every side. A city, as long as it is surrounded by a wall, laughs at the besiegers and remains perfectly secure. But if someone makes a breach in the wall, even just the size of a gate, the rest of the circuit is useless, even though all of it stands perfectly firm. So it is with the city of God. As long as the shepherd’s presence of mind and wisdom, which correspond to the wall, protect it on all sides, all the enemy’s schemes end in his confusion and ridicule, and those who live within the wall remain unharmed. But wherever anyone has managed to tear down a single part, however firmly the rest may stand, ruin will enter the whole through that breach. What is the point of a man contending earnestly with the Greeks if at the same time he falls prey to the Jews? Or of getting the better of both these and then falling into the clutches of the Manichaeans? Or of proving himself superior even to them, if those who introduce fatalism get in and ravage the flock? But I will not list all the devil’s heresies. It is enough to say that unless the shepherd is well skilled in refuting them all, the wolf can get in by means of any one of them and devour most of the flock. In ordinary warfare we must always expect victory to be won or defeat suffered by the soldiers who are on the battlefield. But in spiritual warfare it is quite different. There it often happens that the fight against one set of enemies wins a victory for others who never engaged in battle at all or took any trouble, but were sitting still the whole time. A man who does not have much experience in such matters will be run through, so to speak, with his own sword, and become a laughingstock to friends and enemies alike. I will try to make clear what I am saying with an example. Those who accept the wild doctrines of Valentinus and Marcion, and all whose minds are diseased in the same way, exclude the Law that God gave to Moses from the list of the Divine Scriptures. But the Jews revere the Law so much that, even though the time that abolishes it has come, they still insist on observing everything in it, contrary to God’s purpose. But the Church of God, avoiding both extremes, has taken a middle path. On the one hand, she is not persuaded to place herself under its yoke. On the other, she does not tolerate its being slandered, but praises it, even though its day is over, because of how useful it was while its season lasted. Now whoever is going to fight against both these enemies must be thoroughly familiar with this middle course. He may want to teach the Jews that they are out of date in clinging to the old law. If he begins to criticize it unsparingly, he gives no small opening to those heretics who want to tear it to pieces. And if, in his eagerness to shut their mouths, he praises it excessively and speaks of it admiringly as necessary for the present time, he unseals the lips of the Jews. Again, those who suffer from the frenzy of Sabellius and the madness of Arius have both fallen away from sound faith because they did not keep to a middle course. Both these heretics bear the name of Christian. But if anyone examines their doctrines, he will find the one sect not much better than the Jews, differing from them only in name, and the other very nearly holding the heresy of Paul of Samosata, and both very far from the truth. So the danger in such cases is great. The way of orthodoxy is narrow and hemmed in by menacing cliffs on either side, and there is no small fear that while intending to strike at one enemy we may be wounded by the other. If anyone asserts the unity of the Godhead, Sabellius immediately twists that expression to support his own mental wanderings. And if he distinguishes the Persons and says that the Father is one, and the Son another, and the Holy Spirit a third, up jumps Arius, ready to wrench that distinction of Persons into a difference of substance. So we must turn away and flee both from the impious confusion of the Persons by the one and the senseless division of the substance by the other. We confess that the Godhead of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit is all one, while adding to this a Trinity of Persons. Then we will be able to fortify ourselves against the attacks of both heretics. I could tell you of several other adversaries besides these. Unless we fight them bravely and carefully, we will leave the field covered with wounds.
5. Why should anyone describe the silly chatter of our own people? It is no less a problem than the attacks on us from outside, and it gives the teacher even more trouble. Some, out of idle curiosity, are rashly set on busying themselves with matters that are neither possible for them to know nor of any use to them if they could know them. Others demand that God give an account of his judgments, and force themselves to sound the depths of that unfathomable abyss. “For your judgments,” says the Scripture, “are a great deep.” You will find few of them concerned about their faith and conduct. Most of them are prying into matters that cannot be discovered, and the mere investigation of these matters provokes God. When we make a determined effort to learn what He does not want us to know, we do not succeed (for how could we succeed against the will of God?), and all that remains for us is the danger that comes from our inquiry. Even so, whenever anyone authoritatively puts a stop to the search into such fathomless depths, he gets a reputation for being proud and ignorant. So at such times the bishop needs a great deal of tact, so as to lead his people away from these useless questions and still escape the criticisms I mentioned. In short, to meet all these difficulties, no help is given except that of speech. If anyone lacks this power, the souls of those placed under his care (I mean the weaker and more meddlesome kind) are no better off than ships constantly tossed by storms. So the priest should do everything in his power to gain this means of strength.
6. Basil: “Why, then, did St. Paul not strive to become perfect in this art? He makes no secret of his lack of eloquence, but plainly admits that he is unskilled. He even said so to the Corinthians, who were admired for their eloquence and prided themselves on it.” Chrysostom: This is the very thing that has ruined many people and made them neglect the study of true doctrine. They failed to fathom the depths of the apostle’s mind and to understand the meaning of his words. So they spent all their time dozing and yawning, honoring not the ignorance St. Paul admits to, but a kind from which he was as free as anyone who ever lived. But leaving this subject for us to consider later, I will say this much in the meantime. Granting that St. Paul was as unskilled in this respect as they would like him to be, what does that have to do with the people of today? He had a power far greater than the power of speech, a power that produced greater results too: his mere presence, even when he was silent, terrified the demons. If the people of today were all gathered in one place, they could not, with endless prayers and tears, do the wonders that St. Paul’s handkerchief once did. He also raised the dead by his prayers, and worked other miracles of the kind that led the heathen to take him for a god. And before he departed this life he was counted worthy to be caught up as far as the third heaven, and to share in conversation such as mortal ears are not permitted to hear. But the people of today—I do not want to say anything harsh or severe. I am not speaking to insult them, but only in amazement. How is it that they do not shudder when they measure themselves against so great a man as this? Leave aside the miracles and turn to the life of this blessed saint, and look into his angelic way of life. It is here even more than in his miracles that you will find this Christian athlete a conqueror. How can anyone describe his zeal and patience, his constant dangers, his continual cares, and his unceasing anxiety for the Churches; his sympathy with the weak, his many afflictions, his extraordinary persecutions, his dying daily? Where is the place in the world—what continent or sea—that has not known the labors of this righteous man? Even the desert has known his presence, for it often sheltered him in times of danger. He endured every kind of attack and won every kind of victory, and there was never any end to his contests and his triumphs. Yet without realizing it, I have been led into doing this man an injury. His exploits are beyond all powers of description, and beyond mine in particular, just as the masters of eloquence surpass me. Nevertheless, that holy apostle will judge us not by the result but by the motive. So I will not stop until I have mentioned one more thing. It surpasses anything yet mentioned, as much as he himself surpasses all his fellow human beings. And what is it? After so many exploits, after such a multitude of victories, he prayed that he might go into hell and be handed over to eternal punishment, if only those Jews who had often stoned him, and done what they could to do away with him, might be saved and come over to Christ. Now who ever longed for Christ like this? That is, if his feelings toward him should not be described as something nobler than longing. Shall we, then, still compare ourselves with this saint, after such great grace was given him from above, after such great virtue was displayed in him? What could be more presumptuous? Now I will try to show in what follows that he was not as unskilled as some take him to be. In people’s estimation, the unskilled person is not only one who is unpracticed in the tricks of secular oratory, but also one who is incapable of contending in defense of the right faith, and they are right. But St. Paul did not say that he was unskilled in both these respects, only in one. To support this he makes a careful distinction, saying that he was “unskilled in speech, but not in knowledge.” Now if I were to insist on the polish of Isocrates, the weight of Demosthenes, the dignity of Thucydides, and the sublimity of Plato in any bishop, St. Paul would be strong evidence against me. But I pass over all such matters and the elaborate ornaments of secular oratory; I take no account of style or delivery. Yes, let a man’s diction be poor and his composition simple and plain, but let him not be unskilled in the knowledge and accurate statement of doctrine. And let him not rob that holy apostle of the greatest of his gifts and the sum of his praises, just to cover up his own laziness.
7. For tell me, how was it that he confounded the Jews who lived in Damascus, when he had not yet begun to work miracles? How was it that he wrestled with the Grecians and threw them? And why was he sent to Tarsus? Was it not because he was so mighty and victorious in the word? He drove his opponents to such straits that, unable to bear their defeat, they were provoked to seek his life. At that time, as I said, he had not begun to work miracles. No one could say that the crowds regarded him with amazement because of any glory from his mighty works, or that those who contended with him were overpowered by the force of public opinion about him. At this time he won by argument alone. How was it, moreover, that he contended and argued successfully with those who were trying to Judaize in Antioch? And how was it that that Areopagite, an inhabitant of Athens, the most devoted to the gods of all cities, followed the apostle, he and his wife? Was it not because of the discourse they heard? And when Eutychus fell from the window, was it not because he had stayed listening to St. Paul’s preaching until midnight? How do we find him occupied at Thessalonica and Corinth, in Ephesus and in Rome itself? Did he not spend whole nights and days interpreting the Scriptures in order? And why should anyone recount his debates with the Epicureans and Stoics? If we were determined to go into every detail, our account would grow unreasonably long. Since, then, St. Paul is seen to have made great use of argument both before working miracles and after, how can anyone dare to call him unskilled, when his sermons and debates were so greatly admired by all who heard them? Why did the Lycaonians imagine that he was Hermes? The opinion that he and Barnabas were gods did indeed arise from seeing their miracles. But the notion that he was Hermes did not come from this; it was a result of his speech. In what else did this blessed saint excel the rest of the apostles? And how is it that all over the world his name is on everyone’s lips? How is it that not only among us, but also among Jews and Greeks, he is the wonder of wonders? Is it not from the power of his letters? Through them he has been of benefit not only to the faithful of today, but from his time to ours. He will go on benefiting people right up to the end, even the appearing of Christ, and he will continue to do so as long as the human race lasts. For like a wall built of adamant, his writings fortify all the Churches of the known world. He stands in the midst like a most noble champion, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, casting down imaginations and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God. All this he does through the letters he has left us, full of wonders and of Divine wisdom. His writings are useful to us not only for overthrowing false doctrine and confirming the true; they also help a great deal toward living a good life. By using them, the bishops of today shape and form the chaste virgin whom St. Paul himself betrothed to Christ, and bring her to a state of spiritual beauty. With them, too, they drive away from her the foul plagues that beset her, and preserve the good health thus obtained. Such are the medicines this so-called unskilled man has left us, and such is their power. Those who use them constantly know them and their power best. From all this it is clear that St. Paul had devoted himself with great diligence and zeal to the study we have been speaking of.
8. Hear also what he says in his charge to his disciple: “Devote yourself to reading, to exhortation, to teaching.” He goes on to show its usefulness by adding, “For in doing this you will save both yourself and those who hear you.” And again he says, “The Lord’s servant must not quarrel, but be gentle toward all, apt to teach, forbearing.” He goes on to say, “But continue in the things you have learned and have been assured of, knowing from whom you learned them, and that from infancy you have known the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation.” And again, “Every Scripture is inspired by God, and also profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, so that the man of God may be complete.” Hear what he adds further in his directions to Titus about the appointment of bishops. “The bishop,” he says, “must hold fast to the faithful word that is in accordance with the teaching, so that he may be able to refute opponents.” But how will anyone as unskilled as these people claim be able to refute opponents and shut their mouths? Or what need is there to pay attention to reading and to the Holy Scriptures, if such unskillfulness is to be welcomed among us? Such arguments are mere excuses and pretexts, the marks of idleness and laziness. But someone will say, “It is to the priests that these charges are given.” Certainly, for they are the subject of our discussion. But the apostle gives the same charge to the laity. Hear what he says in another letter to others besides the priesthood: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom.” And again, “Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each one.” There is also a general charge to all to “be ready to” give an account of their faith. And to the Thessalonians he gives the following command: “Build each other up, just as you are doing.” But when he speaks of priests, he says, “Let the elders who rule well be counted worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in the word and in teaching.” This is the perfection of teaching: when teachers, both by what they do and by what they say, bring their disciples to that blessed state of life that Christ appointed for them. Example alone is not enough to instruct others. Nor am I saying this on my own authority; it is our Savior’s own word: “For whoever does and teaches them will be called great.” Now if doing were the same as teaching, the second word here would be superfluous, and it would have been enough to say simply “whoever does.” But as it is, by distinguishing the two, he shows that practice is one thing and doctrine another. Each needs the help of the other to complete edification. You hear, too, what the chosen vessel of Christ says to the Ephesian elders: “Therefore be watchful, remembering that for three years I did not stop admonishing everyone night and day with tears.” But what need was there for his tears, or for admonition by word of mouth, when his life as an apostle was so illustrious? His holy life might be a great inducement to people to keep the commandments, yet I dare not say that it alone could accomplish everything.
9. But when a dispute arises about matters of doctrine, and everyone takes their weapons from the same Scriptures, what weight will anyone’s life carry? What good will his many austerities be, when after such painful exercises someone falls into heresy through the priest’s great lack of skill in argument, and is cut off from the body of the Church? I have myself seen many people suffer this misfortune. What use will his endurance be to him then? None; no more than a sound faith will be if the life is corrupt. So for this reason above all others, the one whose office it is to teach others needs to be experienced in debates of this kind. He himself may stand safe and be unharmed by his opponents. But the simple multitude under his direction will see their leader defeated and without any answer for the opponents. They will tend to blame his defeat not on his own weakness but on the doctrines themselves, as if they were faulty. And so through the inexperience of one man, great numbers are brought to utter ruin. Though they do not go over entirely to the adversary, they are forced to doubt matters they used to believe firmly. They can no longer give the same steady attention to those they used to approach with unwavering confidence. Instead, because of their leader’s defeat, so great a storm settles on their souls that the damage ends in their complete shipwreck. How dreadful is the destruction, and how terrible the fire, that such a leader brings on his own wretched head for every soul lost in this way! You do not need to learn this from me, since you know it all perfectly well. Is it pride, then, or a desire for empty praise that makes me unwilling to be the cause of the destruction of so many souls, and to bring on myself a greater punishment in the world to come than the one that already awaits me there? Who would say so? Surely no one, unless he wanted to find fault where there is none and to moralize over other people’s calamities.
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On the Priesthood, Book 4
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