Homilies on Romans 11 part 2/2

but you, by your slanders, your insults, your plottings, making the light into darkness for him, and setting him in a longing to die ten thousand deaths, consider how many deaths you work in place of one.

And what is most grievous of all, you plunder and grasp at more, not driven by poverty nor compelled by famine, but so that the bridle of your horse may be overlaid with much gold, and the roof of your house, and the capitals of your columns.

And of how great a Gehenna would these things not be worthy, when you cast your brother—one who has shared with you in unspeakable good things, and has been so honored by your Master—into countless calamities, in order to adorn stones and floors and the bodies of irrational beasts that have no perception of this world? And the dog is kept with much care, while the man—nay rather, Christ—for the sake of a dog and all the things mentioned is shut up in extreme famine.

What is worse than this confusion? What is more grievous than this lawlessness? How many rivers of fire will suffice for such a soul? He that was made after the image of God stands disgraced because of your inhumanity;

while the faces of the mules that carry your wife shine with much gold, as do the hides and the timbers that frame that canopy;

and whether a throne is to be made, or a footstool, all are fashioned of gold and silver;

but the member of Christ, for whose sake He came from heaven and poured out His precious blood, does not enjoy even the necessary nourishment.

But the couches are on every side overlaid with silver, while the bodies of the saints are deprived even of the necessary covering;

and Christ has become to you less honorable than all things—than servants and mules and couch and throne and footstool.

For the vessels still more dishonorable than these I pass over, leaving them for you to know.

But if you shudder to hear these things, cease from doing them, and what has been said will do you no harm;

cease, and stand clear of this madness;

for this zeal about such things is manifest madness.

Wherefore, letting these things go, let us at length look up to heaven, let us call to mind the day that is coming, let us consider that fearful tribunal, and the scrupulous reckonings, and the incorruptible verdict;

let us reflect that God, though He sees all these things, does not send down thunderbolts from above;

and yet the things that are done are worthy not only of thunderbolts.

But neither does He do this, nor let loose the sea upon us, nor split the earth asunder in the midst, nor quench the sun, nor cast down the heaven with the stars, nor simply put all things out of the way, but suffers the whole creation to remain in its order and to minister to us.

Reflecting on these things, then, let us shudder at the greatness of His love for mankind, and let us return to our own nobility;

since as things now stand we are in no better condition than the irrational beasts—nay, in a far worse.

For they love their own kind, and are content with the fellowship of nature for their affection toward one another.

But you, who besides nature have ten thousand motives drawing you together and binding you fast to your own members—being honored with reason, partaking of true religion, sharing in countless good things—have become fiercer than they, showing much zeal indeed for senseless things, while overlooking the temples of God as they perish through famine and nakedness, and often even surrounding them with countless evils.

For if you do these things out of love for glory, much more ought you to tend your brother than your horse.

For by how much the better is he that enjoys the benefaction, by so much the more splendid is the crown of such zeal woven for you;

whereas now, falling into the contrary, and drawing upon yourself ten thousand accusers, you do not perceive it.

For who will not speak ill of you? Who will not indict you for the utmost cruelty and hatred of mankind, seeing that you dishonor the race of men, but set that of the irrational beasts before men, and reckon your house and furniture together with the beasts? Have you not heard the apostles saying that those who first received the word sold both houses and lands, in order to feed the brethren? But you seize both houses and lands, in order to adorn a horse and timbers and hides, and walls and floors.

And what is yet more grievous is that not men only, but even women rave with this madness, and anoint their husbands to such vain toil, compelling them to spend everywhere rather than on the things that are needful;

and if anyone should call them to account for these things, they have practiced a defense full of much self-accusation.

For 'both these things and those are done,' she says.

What do you say? Are you not afraid, uttering such things, and reckoning Christ, who hungers, together with the horses and the mules, and the couches and the footstools? Nay rather, not even together with these, but assigning the greater part to them, and to Him scarcely a small part.

Do you not know that all things are His—both you and yours? Do you not know that He both fashioned your body and bestowed a soul, and apportioned to you the whole world? But you do not give Him back even a small return;

but if you let out even a little house, you demand the rent with much exactness, while, though you reap the whole of His creation and dwell in so great a world, you cannot bear to pay down even a little rent, but have given over both yourself and all that is yours to vainglory;

for it is from that source that all these things hang.

For neither would a horse become better in respect of its own excellence by having this adornment put upon it, nor the man who sits upon it, but sometimes he becomes even more dishonorable.

For many, leaving him that is mounted, turn their eyes to the adornment of the horse, and to the servants that follow behind and those that go before and those that clear the way;

but the man who is escorted by these as by a bodyguard, and

they hate, and turn away from as from a common enemy.

But when you adorn the soul, this does not happen; rather both men and angels, and the Master of the angels, all weave the crown for you.

So that, if you love glory, cease from these things which you now do, and adorn not your house but your soul, that you may become splendid and conspicuous;

since as things now are, nothing could be more worthless than you, having your soul desolate, while you put forward the beauty of your house.

But if you will not endure what is said by me, hear what one of those without did, and be ashamed at least before their philosophy.

For it is said that one of them, having entered into a splendid house, gleaming with much gold and dazzling with the beauty of its marbles and columns, when he saw the floor everywhere spread with carpets, spat into the face of the master of the house;

then, being called to account, he said that, because there was nowhere else in the house where it was permitted to do this, he had been compelled to affront that man's face.

Do you see how ridiculous is he that adorns the outward things, and how contemptible in the eyes of all who have understanding? And that with good reason.

For neither, if someone, leaving your own consort to be clad in rags and to be neglected, were to clothe the maidservants in a splendid robe, would you bear it meekly, but you would be provoked, and would declare the thing to be the utmost outrage.

This same thing, then, reckon also concerning the soul.

For when you adorn the walls and the floor and the furniture and all the rest, but do not furnish bountiful almsgiving, nor practice the other philosophy, you do nothing else than this—nay rather, something far more grievous.

For between the maidservant and the mistress there is no great gulf, but between the soul and the flesh there is a great difference;

and if you would prefer the flesh, much more the soul above the house, and the soul above the couch and the footstool.

What defense, then, could you be worthy of, when you surround all these things with much silver, but overlook her clad in rags, squalid, hungry, full of wounds, torn by ten thousand dogs, and after all this even think to be glorified by the adornment of the outward things laid around you? Which indeed is most of all the utmost derangement—to be laughed at and reproached, and to be disgraced and dishonored, and to be falling into the utmost

punishment, and yet still to pride yourself in these things.

Wherefore I beseech you, having considered all these things, let us at length come to our senses, and become our own selves, and transfer this adornment from the outward things to the soul.

For thus it both remains inviolable, and makes us equal to the angels, and will procure for us the good things that are immovable;

which may it be that we all attain, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.