Homilies on First Corinthians 27

'But in giving this charge I do not commend you, because you come together not for the better but for the worse.'

It is necessary first to state the cause of the present accusation as well;

for thus again the discourse will be more easily understood by us.

What, then, is this cause? Just as among the three thousand who first believed all feasted in common and possessed all things in common,

so also at that time, when the Apostle wrote these things, this practice was going on—not indeed with such exactness, but as it were a certain effluence remaining from that fellowship descended also to those who came after.

And since it came to pass that some were poor and some rich, they did not put all their own possessions into the common stock, but they made the tables common on appointed days; and, as was fitting, when the assembly was concluded, after the communion of the Mysteries they all went to a common feast, the wealthy bringing the provisions, and the poor and those who had nothing being invited by them, and all feasting together.

But afterwards this custom too became corrupted.

The cause of this was their being torn apart and assigning themselves, some to these, some to those, and saying:

'I indeed am of such a one, and I of such another'—

which very thing he was correcting even at the beginning of the Epistle, when he said:

'For it has been declared to me concerning you, my brethren, by them of the household of Chloe, that there are contentions among you.'

'Now this I say, that every one of you says, I am of Paul, and I of Apollos, and I of Cephas.'

Not because they were assigning themselves to Paul;

but wishing out of abundant care to tear up the custom by the very roots, he inserted his own name, showing that even if someone were to inscribe himself with Paul's name while breaking away from the common body, even so the thing done would be absurd and full of transgression.

But if in this case it is transgression, much more in the case of those inferior ones.

Since, then, this custom was being torn apart—a most excellent and most beneficial custom (for it was an occasion of love, a comfort to poverty, a chastening of wealth, a starting-point for the greatest philosophy, and a teaching of humility)—

since, then, he saw so many good things being destroyed, he reasonably employed a striking word, speaking thus:

'Now in this that I declare unto you, I praise you not.'

For in the former reproof, seeing that there were many who kept the tradition, he began differently, saying thus:

'Now I praise you, that you remember me in all things.'

but here, on the contrary: 'Now in this that I declare, I praise you not.'

Wherefore he did not place it even after the rebuke concerning those who ate things sacrificed to idols;

but since that matter was harsher, having inserted in between the discourse concerning hair, so that he might not appear more severe by passing over from vehement charges again to others, he then comes once more to the more vehement, and says:

'Now in this that I declare, I praise you not.'

What is this? That which I am now about to say.

What does it mean, 'In declaring, I praise you not'? 'I do not approve of you,' he says, 'because you have brought me into the necessity of giving counsel;

I praise you not, because you needed teaching in this matter, because you have need of being admonished by me.'

Do you see how from the very outset he showed that what was being done was exceedingly absurd? For when the one who sins ought not even to need admonition in order not to sin, it is likely that the sin committed is inexcusable.

'And why do you not praise? Because you come together not for the better, but for the worse,' he says; that is, because you do not advance in virtue.

For whereas you ought to have increased and made your zeal greater, you have instead diminished even the custom that had already prevailed, and diminished it in such a way that you needed even to be admonished by me, in order that you might return to your former rank.

Then, that he might not seem to say these things for the poor alone, he does not immediately plunge into the discourse concerning the tables, so as not to make the rebuke contemptible to them thereby, but seeks a most striking expression, one carrying much fear.

For what does he say? 'For first of all, when you come together in the church, I hear that there are divisions among you.'

And he does not say, 'For I hear that you do not sup in common;'

'for I hear that you feast privately, and not with the poor;'

but that which was especially able to shake their mind—this he set down, namely the word 'schism,' which was also the cause of this, and again reminded them of that which had been said at the beginning of the Epistle and declared by them of Chloe's household.

For lest they should say, 'What then, if those who accuse us are lying?'—he neither said that he believed it, lest he should make them more shameless, nor again that he disbelieved it, lest he should seem to rebuke in vain; but 'In part I even believe it,' he says; that is, 'I believe a small portion of it,' making them anxious, and calling them back to the return of amendment.

'For there must be also heresies among you, that they who are approved may be made manifest among you.'

By 'heresies' here he does not mean those of doctrines, but those of these schisms.

But even if he were speaking of those of doctrines, not even so would he give any handle.

For Christ also says, 'It must needs be that offences come,' not doing violence to the freedom of the will, nor imposing any necessity and compulsion upon life, but foretelling that which would altogether come to pass out of the wicked disposition of men—which was going to happen, not because of his foretelling, but because of the disposition of those who were incurable.

For it was not because he foretold it that these things came to pass, but because they were altogether going to happen, for this reason he foretold it;

since, if the offences were of necessity, and not of the disposition of those who introduce them, he would have said superfluously, 'Woe to that man by whom the offences come.'

But these matters we have discussed more at large when we were in that very passage;

and now it is necessary to proceed to the matter before us.

For that he was speaking of these heresies which pertain to the tables, and of this contentiousness and dissension, he made clear also from what follows.

For having said, 'I hear that there are divisions among you,' he did not stop at that, but showing what kind of divisions he means, he goes on to say, that 'Every one takes his own.'

And again, 'What? Have you not houses to eat and to drink in? Or do you despise the church of God?' That he was speaking of these things, then, is plain.

But if he calls them 'schisms,' do not marvel;

for, as I said, he wishes by his very word to lay hold of them.

But if the schisms had been of doctrines, he would not have discoursed with them so gently.

Hear, at any rate, when he says any such thing, how vehement he is, and guarding, and rebuking;

guarding, as when he says, 'Though an angel preach to you a gospel other than that which you received, let him be accursed;'

rebuking, as when he says, 'Whosoever of you are justified by the law, you are fallen from grace.'

And now indeed he calls those who corrupt them 'dogs,' saying, 'Beware of the dogs;'

and now 'seared in their conscience,' and again 'angels of the devil.'

But here he said no such thing, but gently and in a subdued manner.

And what does it mean, 'That they who are approved may be made manifest among you'? That they may shine forth the more.

And what he wishes to say is this: that as for those who are unshaken and steadfast, this not only in no way harms them, but even displays them the more, and renders them more illustrious.

For this word 'that' is not everywhere expressive of cause, but in many places also of the issue of events.

So Christ also uses it, when he says, 'For judgment I am come into this world, that they who see not might see, and that they who see might become blind;'

so too Paul himself, when discoursing concerning the law he writes:

'But the law entered, that the offence might abound.'

Yet neither was the law given for this end, that the sins of the Jews might be increased;

nor did Christ come for this end, that they who see might become blind, but for the contrary end.

So then, here also we must understand the phrase, 'That they who are approved may be made manifest.'

For neither did the heresies come into being for this end, that they who are approved might be made manifest, but when these heresies had come to be, this resulted.

And these things he said, comforting the poor who nobly bore such contempt.

Wherefore neither did he say, 'That they may become approved;'

but, 'That they who are approved may be made manifest,' showing that even before this they were such, but they were mingled with the many, and enjoying the comfort that came from the rich, they did not greatly appear;

but now this dissension and contentiousness has made them manifest, just as the storm reveals the pilot.

And he did not say, 'That you may appear approved,' but, 'That they who are approved may be made manifest,' namely those among you who are such.

For neither by accusing does he make them manifest, so as not to render them more shameless, nor by praising, so as not to make them more remiss; but he leaves the word suspended, and gives both this man and that the means of fitting what is said to his own conscience.

And it seems to me that here he is comforting not the poor alone, but also those who do not corrupt the custom.

For it was likely that there were among them also those who were preserving it;

wherefore also he said, 'In part I believe.'

Reasonably, therefore, he calls these 'approved'—those who not only preserved the custom together with the others, but also, apart from those others, kept this good law unmoved.

And he does this hastening to render both others and these themselves more zealous through such commendations.

Then next he states the very form of the sin itself.

And what is this? 'When you come together in one place,' he says, 'it is not to eat the Lord's Supper.'

Do you see how, in a rebuking manner and already under the guise of narration, he has framed his counsel? For the outward form of your assembly, he says, is one thing;

for it belongs to love and to brotherly affection;

one place at least receives you all, and you gather together in company;

but the table thereafter is no longer in keeping with the assembly.

And he did not say, 'When you come together it is not to eat in common, it is not to feast with one another,' but again in another way, and far more fearfully, he lays hold of them, saying, 'It is not to eat the Lord's Supper,' from this point already directing them to that evening on which Christ delivered the awesome mysteries.

For this reason he also called the meal a 'supper';

for that Supper too had them all reclining in common.

And yet the distance between the rich and

the poor is not so great as that between the teacher and the disciples;

and why do I speak of the teacher and the disciples? Consider the distance between the Teacher and the betrayer.

But nevertheless He too reclined together with them, and did not even cast this one out, but even shared salt with him, and made him a partaker of the mysteries.

Then he explains how it is not to eat the Lord's Supper.

'For each one,' he says, 'takes his own supper beforehand in the eating;'

'and one is hungry, and another is drunken.'

Do you see how he showed that they were rather putting themselves to shame? For they make what is the Lord's into something private, so that they themselves are the first to be dishonored, stripping their own table of its greatest dignity.

How and in what manner? Because the Lord's Supper, that is, the Master's, ought to be common.

For the master's goods are not the property of this servant and not of that, but are common to all.

So then, this 'the Lord's' he says means 'the common.'

For if it belongs to your Master, as indeed it does, you ought not to snatch it away as your own, but, since it belongs to the Lord and Master, to set it before all in common.

But as it is, you do not allow it to be the Lord's, since you do not allow it to be common, but feast by yourself.

'For each one takes his own supper beforehand.'

And he did not say, 'He cuts himself off,' but 'He takes beforehand,' gently charging them with gluttony and rashness.

This at any rate is also shown by what follows;

for having said this, he added again:

'And one is hungry, and another is drunken;'

both of which were marks of want of measure—both the deficiency and the excess.

Behold a second charge, again one that injures those very persons.

First, that they dishonor their own supper;

second, that they gorge themselves and become drunk;

and, what is indeed more grievous, that they do so while the poor go hungry.

For the things which ought to have been set before all in common, these they alone consumed, and gave themselves over to insatiableness and drunkenness.

Therefore he did not say, 'One is hungry, and another is filled,' but 'is drunken.'

Now each of these things is by itself worthy of accusation;

for even drunkenness apart from overlooking the poor is a charge, and overlooking the poor apart from drunkenness is an accusation;

but when both are joined together, consider how great is the excess of the transgression.

Then, having shown the absurdity, he thereafter with much indignation brings on the reproof, saying:

'For do you not have houses to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the Church of God, and put to shame those who have nothing?' Do you see how he transferred the charge from the outrage against the poor to the Church, in order to make his word weightier? Behold then a fourth accusation, when it is not only the poor, but also the Church, that is outraged.

For just as you make the Lord's Supper into something private, so likewise you do with the place as well, using the church as though it were a house.

For the Church came into being, not that we who assemble should be divided, but that those who are divided should be joined together;

and this the assembly itself shows.

'And you put to shame those who have nothing.'

He did not say, 'And you starve those who have nothing,' but, far more cuttingly, 'You put them to shame,' in order to show that it was not so much the food that concerned him as the outrage done to them.

Behold also a fifth accusation, that they not only overlooked the hungry, but even put them to shame.

And this he said, at once ennobling the cause of the poor, and showing that they grieved not so much for their belly as for the shame, and at the same time drawing his hearer toward compassion.

Having then shown so many outrages—outrage against the supper, outrage against the church, the contempt shown toward the poor—he again all at once slackens the tension of his rebuke, saying:

'Shall I praise you? In this I do not praise you.'

And this is what one might most admire in him, that whereas after the demonstration of so many sins he ought to have reproved more severely and laid hold of them, he does rather the contrary, and relaxes and gives them room to breathe.

What then is the reason? He had laid hold of them more weightily, having increased the accusation; and being a most excellent physician, he applies the incision in accordance with the wounds, neither cutting superficially the parts that need a deep stroke

(for you heard how the fornicator

he cut off from among these very people), nor handing over to the knife the parts that need gentler remedies.

For this reason here too he has used a gentler manner of speech;

and besides, he was especially eager to make them gentle toward the poor;

wherefore also he converses with them rather in a subdued way.

Then, wishing to shame them yet more from another quarter as well, he again weaves his discourse from the weightier matters:

'For I received from the Lord,' he says, 'that which I also delivered to you;'

'that the Lord Jesus, in the night in which He was betrayed, took bread, and having given thanks He broke it and said, Take, eat;'

'this is My body which is broken for you;'

'do this in remembrance of Me.'

For what reason does he here make mention of the mysteries? Because this word was exceedingly necessary to him for the present subject.

'For your Master too,' he says, 'counted all worthy of the same table, though it was most awesome and far surpassing the worth of all;'

'but you deem them unworthy even of your own—this small and paltry table—and, though they in no way have less than you in spiritual things, you rob them in the things of sense.'

But he does not put it in this way, lest his word should become harsh;

rather he frames it more gently, saying:

'That the Lord Jesus, in the night in which He was betrayed, took bread.'

And for what reason does he remind us of the time, and of that evening and of the betrayal? Not simply, nor without some purpose, but that he might pierce them to the heart with exceeding force even from the time itself.

For even were one very stone itself, upon considering that night—how He was in anguish with the disciples, how He was betrayed, how He was bound, how He was led away, how He was tried, how He suffered all that followed—he becomes softer than wax, and is delivered from the earth and from all the fancy that is here.

For this reason he brings us to the remembrance of all those things, shaming them by means of the time and the table and the betrayal, and saying that: Your Master indeed gave up even Himself for you;

but you do not share even food with your brother for your own sake? 4.

But how does he say that he received it from the Lord? For he was not present at that time; rather, he was among those who persecuted.

It is so that you may learn that this Table has nothing less than that one which came after it.

For even today it is He Himself who works all things and delivers them up, just as He did then.

But it is not for this reason alone that he calls to mind that night, but also that he may pierce our hearts in yet another way.

For just as we most of all remember those words which we hear last from those who are departing this life, and if their heirs should dare to transgress their commands, we rebuke them saying: 'Consider that this was the last utterance your father left to you, and up to the very evening on which he was about to breathe his last he charged you with these things';

so too Paul, wishing from this very fact to make his word awe-inspiring, says: Remember that He gave you this initiation into the mysteries as the very last, and on that very night on which He was about to be slain for you He gave these commands; and having delivered to you that Supper, after it He added nothing else.

Then he goes on to relate the very things that happened, saying that: He took bread, and having given thanks He broke it, and said:

This is My body, which is broken for you.

If, therefore, you come forward for a thanksgiving, do yourself nothing unworthy of that thanksgiving; do not put your brother to shame, do not disregard him when he is hungry, do not get drunk, do not insult the Church.

For you come forward giving thanks for the things you have enjoyed.

Therefore you too render a return, and do not cut yourself off from your neighbor.

For Christ too gave to all alike, saying, Take, eat.

He gave His body equally to all; but you do not give even the common bread equally? For it was broken alike for all, and became a body equally for all.

Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new covenant in My blood;

do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.

What are you saying? You make a remembrance of Christ, and you overlook the poor, and do not tremble? Now if you were making a remembrance of a son or brother who had died,

you would have been stricken by your conscience if you had not fulfilled the custom and invited the poor;

yet when you make the remembrance of your Master, do you not so much as share your table simply? And what does he mean when he says, This cup is the new covenant? For the old covenant also had its cup — the libations and the blood of the irrational beasts;

for indeed, after sacrificing, they would receive the blood in a cup and bowl, and thus pour out their libations.

Since then, instead of the blood of irrational beasts, He introduced His own blood, in order that no one hearing this might be disturbed, He reminded them of that ancient sacrifice.

Then, having spoken about that Supper, he joins the present things to those of that time, so that, as though we were on that very evening, reclining upon that very couch and receiving this sacrifice from Christ Himself, we might be so disposed even now; and he says:

For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until He comes.

For just as Christ, over both the bread and the cup, said, Do this in remembrance of Me, thereby unveiling to us the cause of the giving of the mystery, and declaring that this too, along with the rest, is sufficient for us as a ground of reverence;

for whenever you consider what your Master suffered for you, you will become more given to true wisdom;

so too Paul here says:

As often as you eat, you proclaim His death.

And this is that same Supper.

Then, showing that it remains until the consummation of the age, he says:

So then, whoever eats this bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord.

Why so? Because he poured it out, and made the deed to be a slaughter, no longer a sacrifice.

Therefore, just as then those who pierced Him did not pierce Him in order to drink, but in order to pour out His blood;

so too is he who partakes unworthily, and reaps no fruit therefrom.

Do you see how he made his word fearful, and with the utmost force laid hold of them all, showing that if they were going to drink in this manner, they were partaking unworthily of the things set before them?

For how is he not unworthy, who overlooks the hungry man? who puts him to shame in addition to disregarding him? For if failure to give to the poor casts one out of the kingdom, even were one a virgin — or rather, failure to give lavishly;

for those virgins too had oil, but they did not have it in abundance;

consider how great an evil it will be to commit even so many outrages.

What are you saying — what outrages? You partook of such a Table, and though you ought to be gentler than all men and equal to the angels, you have become fiercer than all;

you tasted of the Master's blood, and yet even so you do not recognize your brother;

and of what pardon are you worthy? Indeed, even if you were ignorant of him before this, from the Table you ought to have recognized him;

but now you dishonor even the Table itself, when you deem the one counted worthy to be a partaker of it unworthy to share in your food.

Did you not hear how much the man who demanded the hundred denarii suffered? how he rendered void the free gift that had been bestowed on him? Do you not consider what you were and what you have become? Do you not remind yourself that you were far poorer than this poor man — poorer in good deeds than he in money, laden with countless sins? And yet God freed you from all those, and counted you worthy of such a Table;

yet you do not become even so more merciful.

Therefore nothing else remains but that you too should be delivered over to the tormentors.

Let us all also hear these words — all of us who here draw near to this sacred Table together with the poor;

but going outside, we seem not even to have seen them, but we get drunk and run past the hungry;

the very things for which the Corinthians too were then reproached. And when does this happen? one may say.

Always, but most of all at the feasts, when least of all it ought to happen.

For then, immediately after the communion, drunkenness succeeds, and contempt of the poor;

and having partaken of the blood, at the very time when it is your season for fasting and sobriety, you carouse and revel.

And if you happen to have breakfasted on something wholesome, you guard yourself so as not to spoil the former food with another, harmful dish;

but having been feasted on the Spirit, you bring in on top of it a satanic indulgence.

Consider: when the apostles partook of those sacred suppers, what then?

Did they not turn to prayers and hymn-singing? To sacred all-night vigils? To that long teaching, full of much true wisdom? For it was then that He recounted and enjoined upon them the great and marvelous things, after Judas had gone out to summon those who were about to crucify Him.

Did you not hear how the three thousand also, who enjoyed the communion, were continually persevering in prayer and teaching — not in drunken bouts and revelings? But you fast before you partake, that you may somehow appear worthy of the communion;

but when you have partaken, when you ought to intensify your self-control, you destroy everything.

And yet it is not the same thing to be sober before this and after it;

for one ought indeed to be temperate in both, but most of all after receiving the Bridegroom;

before this, that you may become worthy to receive; but after this, that you may not appear unworthy of what you have received.

What then — must one fast after receiving? I do not say this, nor do I lay it upon you as a compulsion.

yet I do not force this, but I exhort you not to run riot into gluttony.

For if one ought never to run riot in luxury — and Paul made this clear too when he said, But she who lives in self-indulgence is dead while she lives — much more shall one be dead who does so at that time.

But if luxury is death to a woman, much more to a man;

and if, occurring at another time, it destroys, much more after the communion of the mysteries.

But you, having received the bread of life, do a deed of death, and do you not tremble? Do you not know how many evils enter in from luxury? Untimely laughter, disorderly words, buffoonery full of ruin, unprofitable prating, and the rest which it is not even seemly to mention.

And these things you do after enjoying the Table of Christ, on that very day on which you were counted worthy to touch His flesh with your tongue.

Therefore, that these things may not happen, purify your right hand, your tongue, your lips, which have become the doorway for the entrance of Christ;

and when you set out a table perceptible to the senses, lift up your mind toward that other Table, toward the Lord's Supper, toward the vigil of the disciples on that sacred night;

or rather, if one were to examine it accurately, the present time also is night.

Let us therefore keep watch together with the Master; let us be pierced to the heart together with the disciples.

It is the season for prayers, not for drunkenness — always, but most of all at a feast.

For a feast is held for this reason: not that we should behave shamefully, not that we should heap up sins, but that we might do away even with those we already have.

And I know indeed that I speak these things in vain, yet I will not cease to speak them.

For even if you do not all obey, yet neither will you all disobey; or rather, even if you all disobey, mine will be the greater reward, but yours the heavier condemnation.

In order, then, that this condemnation may not grow greater, for this cause I will not cease to speak.

For perhaps, perhaps by my persistence I shall lay hold upon you.

Wherefore I exhort you, that we may not do this unto condemnation: let us feed Christ, give Him drink, clothe Him;

these are the things worthy of that Table.

Have you heard sacred hymns? Have you beheld a spiritual marriage? Have you enjoyed a royal table? Have you been filled with the Holy Spirit? Have you joined in the dance with the Seraphim? Have you become a partaker of the powers above? Do not cast away so great a joy, do not pour out the treasure, do not bring in drunkenness, the mother of despondency, the joy of the devil, that which gives birth to a thousand evils.

For hence come sleep resembling death, and heaviness of head, and diseases, and forgetfulness, and the very image of lifelessness.

And yet you would not choose to meet a friend when you are in your cups; but having Christ within, do you dare, tell me, to bring in so great a drunkenness? But are you in love with luxury? Then for this very reason cease from getting drunk.

For I too wish you to live delicately, but with the true delight, that which never withers away.

What then is the true delight, and one that flourishes perpetually? Invite Christ to your meal; give Him a share of what is yours, or rather of what is His own;

this holds a pleasure that is boundless and forever in its prime.

But things perceived by the senses are not such; rather, no sooner do they appear than they vanish, and he who has indulged in luxury will be in no better a state than he who has not—nay, rather in a worse.

For the one sits as it were in a harbour, but the other has received a torrent, as it were, and a besieging army of maladies, and cannot even endure this tempest.

In order, then, that these things may not happen, let us pursue moderation.

So shall we keep the body in good condition, and establish the soul in safety, and be delivered from both present and future evils;

from which may it be granted that all of us, being delivered, may attain unto the Kingdom, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.