Oration 4, Against Julian I 1 part 1/5

The First Invective Against the Emperor Julian

Hear this, all you nations; give ear, all you who dwell in the world.

For I summon all, as though from some far-seen and central watchtower, with a great and lofty proclamation;

hear, O peoples, tribes, tongues, every race of men, and every age — both those who now are, and those who shall be;

and that my proclamation may be the greater, I summon every power of the heavens, all the angels whose task is the overthrow of the tyrant — they shall cast down not Sihon, king of the Amorites, nor Og, king of Bashan, petty princelings who afflicted Israel, a small portion of the world;

but the dragon, the apostate, the great intellect, the Assyrian, the common enemy and foe of all — who raged much and made many threats upon the earth, and spoke and devised much iniquity against the height.

Hear, O heaven, and give ear, O earth;

for it is time for me to utter the same words as Isaiah, most sonorous of the prophets —

except that he calls and testifies these words against Israel, who had rejected God;

but I, against a tyrant, who both rejected God and fell a fall worthy of his impiety.

Hear too, O soul of the great Constantius, if there be any perception after death, and hear, all you Christ-loving souls of the emperors before him;

but him most of all — inasmuch as he grew up together with the inheritance of Christ, and increased it in strength, and confirmed it through time, so that for this he became the most renowned of all emperors that ever were — (O the outrage!) he made an error exceedingly unworthy of his own piety;

unknowingly he nurtured among the Christians the enemy of Christ, and in this one thing alone, of all things, did not show kindness rightly — both saving, and making emperor, the one who was ill-saved and ill-made-emperor.

and for this reason above all he would rejoice — just as at the overthrow of impiety, and at the affairs of the Christians returning to their ancient state, so also at this discourse of mine.

For I shall dedicate to God a discourse of thanksgiving, more sacred and purer than any irrational sacrifice — not after the manner of that man's accursed words and follies, and his more accursed sacrifices, whose abundance and power were but the strength of impiety, and an unwise wisdom, if I may so call it;

since indeed all the power and learning of this age walks in darkness, and falls far short of the light of truth;

such indeed is that wisdom, and among such men, bearing such fruits — withering swiftly like grass, falling away quickly like the green herb, and passing away together with its fathers who perish with a crash, whose downfall was more conspicuous than their impiety.

But as I offer today a sacrifice of praise, and kindle the bloodless honor of words, who shall array around me an audience equal to this grace? Or what tongue shall join in chorus so far as I desire? What ear shall be as eager as my discourse? For indeed the grace that comes through discourse belongs most properly not to the Logos alone, among the other titles by which he is named and in which he especially rejoices — both in this appellation, and in the power of the calling —

but a fitting justice belongs also to that man, to be punished by discourse for his transgression against discourse itself;

for though learning is common to all rational beings, he grudged it to the Christians as though it were his own private possession — thinking most irrationally about reason, he who supposed himself the most reasonable of all men.

First, because he maliciously shifted the meaning of the term to suit his purpose, as though Greek learning belonged to pagan religion, and not to the Greek tongue;

and for this reason he drove us away from learning, as though we were thieves of another's goods;

just as if he had also barred us from the arts — as many as have been discovered among the Greeks — and thought that these too belonged to him on account of the ambiguity of the name.

Next, because he supposed it would escape our notice that he was not about to deprive us of any great good — we who indeed utterly despise these writings;

but rather, fearing the refutations of his impiety, as though their strength lay in elegance of style, and not in the knowledge of truth and in our arguments — refutations which it is more impossible to restrain in us, so long as we have a tongue to confess God;

since indeed, together with other things, we consecrate this too — namely, discourse — just as we consecrate our bodies, whenever these too must contend on behalf of the truth;

so that he who ordained this prevented us from speaking Attic Greek, but did not stop us from speaking the truth;

and he exposed the unsoundness of his own cause, but did not escape refutation —

for, without realizing it, he thereby subjected himself all the more to these very refutations.

For it was not the mark of one confident either in the justice of his religion, or in his own arguments, to restrain our discourse;

just as if someone should deem himself the mightiest of athletes, and claim to be proclaimed victor over all, having ordered that none of the noble contenders should compete, nor even step down into the stadium — or having maimed some of their limbs, which is proof of cowardice rather than of strength.

For crowns belong to those who contend, not to those seated above as spectators;

and to those who employ their full strength, not to those stripped of the greater part of their power.

But if you were altogether afraid to close ranks and come to grips with us, by that very fact you declared your own defeat, and it fell to me to be victorious without so much as having contended — since you contended not to contend.

Such then were the deeds of our 'wise' emperor and lawgiver — as if so that nothing of his tyranny might lack its share, and that he might herald beforehand the unreason of his reign at the very outset of his rule, by first of all playing the tyrant over discourse itself;

but it is good for us, now that we have recovered our freedom, to confess our thanks to God even for discourse itself;

and above all, to honor him also with other offerings, sparing nothing — neither money nor possessions, which, though they became the prey of that season and of his tyranny, the loving-kindness of God preserved — but to honor him above all with discourse, the righteous fruit-offering common to all who have partaken of his grace.

But let this discourse concerning discourse itself now suffice —

lest, by extending it further, we fall outside the proper occasion, and seem to be more intent upon something else than that for which we have assembled.

But now my discourse leaps and hastens toward festal celebration, and rejoices together with what is seen, and calls all to a spiritual dance — as many as devoted themselves to fastings, and weeping, and supplication, asking night and day for deliverance from the afflictions that held them fast, and making, as a fitting remedy amid evils, the hope that puts not to shame;

and as many as, having endured great contests and struggles, and having been struck by many harsh assaults of that time, became a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men, according to the voice of the Apostle;

and while their bodies grew weary, remained unconquered in their souls, being strong in all things through the Christ who empowered them;

and as many as, having laid aside the worldly substance and dominion of wickedness, either received with joy the plundering of their possessions, or were unjustly driven — as it is called — into exile from their own land, or from husbands, or wives, or parents, or children, or by whatever other names we are held by the ties of this lesser kinship; who, having been parted from these for a little while, and having borne, unto the blood of Christ, the sufferings endured for Christ's sake as their fruit, might now say and sing in due season that word: 'Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads;'

we went through fire and through water;

and thou broughtest us out into a place of refreshment.

I call also the other portion to the festival — those who, while confessing the God of all, and being sound in their reasoning up to this point, yet do not enter into the ways of providence, which often orders what is better out of what seems contrary, and by its goodness invites correction; but who, on account of poverty of soul and levity, while the impious man exalts himself in his reckonings, are inflamed and kindled, 'not bearing the peace of sinners,' as the Psalm indeed says, nor enduring the counsel of God, nor being patient unto the end;

but being ever slaves to present things and to what is seen, are confirmed in the truth by such wonders as these.

I call also the souls fluttered about the stage-scene of this world, and its great theater;

and I call them indeed with the very words of Isaiah:

'Women coming from the spectacle, come'; and having turned back the soul's eye from its wandering abroad, 'be still, and know that he is God,' exalted among the nations, exalted in the earth — ever exalted in all the wonders and marvels he has wrought, and now yet more manifestly still.

Would that that band too were part of my choir — that assembly which, until now, sang together with us to God no counterfeit song, nor unworthy one, but was even once accounted worthy to stand at the right hand, and which, I believe, will again soon be accounted worthy — that assembly which, I know not what has befallen it, suddenly changes its tune, and shifts its ranks;

and not even by our common joy is it drawn back — which I marvel at all the more.

but sets up for itself a dance that is neither well-ordered nor harmonious;

for this much, perhaps, even they themselves will grant me to say;

but of what sort, and what kind is it? Though zeal stirs me to say more, yet faith restrains me;

and I shall hold back the unpleasant part of my discourse, out of reverence for hope.

I still give greater weight to my former love than to their present contempt;

and for this reason I become the more forbearing, that I may reproach the more fervently hereafter.

One portion, one race of souls, I banish from the festival — groaning and grieving, and lamenting those who perhaps do not even perceive their state, mourning those who are not even aware of their own destruction;

for this is the most pitiable part of their affliction;

yet I banish them nonetheless — those who were sown, not upon the firm and unshaken rock, but upon dry and barren ground;

these are they who approached the word superficially, with little faith, and, because they had no depth of soil, sprang up at once and put themselves forward, that they might please those around them; but then, under a brief assault of the evil one, and a slight scorching heat of trials, they withered and died.

And still worse than these, and even more to be banished from the festival, are those who did not resist that season even for a little while, but let themselves be led away into that evil captivity by those very ones — away from him who ascended on high, and who led us captive in a good captivity;

but showed themselves wicked and cheaply bought beyond all necessity, not having held out even for a little while, nor having been offended for the Word's sake by any affliction or trial that befell them, but — wretched men — having sold off their own salvation for the sake of some passing gain, or courtly favor, or petty power.

Now that we have, by this discourse, purged the fullness of the choir, come — as far as our power allows — having purified both bodies and souls, and having taken up one voice, harmonized together in one Spirit, let us sing that song of victory which Israel once sang over the Egyptians who were covered by the Red Sea, with Miriam leading, and striking up the timbrel:

'Horse and rider he has thrown' — not into the sea, for this I adapt from the song — but wherever it pleased him, and however he himself deemed right;

'He who makes all things, and transforms them' — as Amos somewhere says in his prophecy, philosophizing most divinely —

guiding and conducting, as through some circling course, the whole world, and our affairs — things at once shaken and yet unshaken, moved and overturned by their changes, and being now one way, now another;

yet fixed and immovable in the order of his providence, even though it proceeds by contrary paths — paths plain indeed to the Word, but unknown to us;

who casts down rulers from their thrones, and adorns with a diadem him who was not so much as suspected of such a fate.

For this too I take from the divine Scripture:

He who girds courage upon feeble knees, and shatters the arms of the sinner and the wicked — these words too from another ode, so that each point may come to mind, as many voices fill up the hymn for me and join together in the thanksgiving:

He who lets be seen both the impious man's exaltation that rises above the cedars, and his abasement into no longer being:

when we are able to pass by his impiety with swiftness and sureness of foot

Who shall worthily sing these things, and recount them among those who recount the things of God? Who shall tell of the mighty deeds of the Lord, and make heard all his praises? What voice, or what power of speech, shall be made equal to the wonder? Who broke the weapon, and the sword, and the war? Who crushed the heads of the dragons upon the water? Who gave him as food to the peoples to whom he also delivered him? Who turned the storm into a breeze? Who said to the sea, 'Be silent, be muzzled'; and, 'In you shall your waves be broken'?

For it was not as righteous men that we were delivered up — for that happens to few, and rarely;

so that, like noble athletes, they might put the tempter to shame;

but as sinners we were condemned, then were shown mercy in a fatherly and guardian-like manner — struck only so far as to be brought to soberness, admonished only so far as to be turned back to him.

For he rebuked us, but not in wrath;

and he chastened us, but not in anger;

showing through both his loving-kindness — both in the reminder and in the release.

Who is he that executed vengeance among the nations, and rebukes among the peoples? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.

I find one voice, one song, in some way worthy of the present occasion, which Isaiah uttered before us, exceedingly fitting for the present time, and rivaling the greatness of the benefit received:

Let the heavens rejoice from above, and let the clouds rain down righteousness;

let the mountains break forth into gladness, and the hills into exultation;

since indeed all creation, and the heavenly powers too, share in the perception of such things, as at least my own reasoning holds;

for it does not only groan together and travail together, in bondage to corruption — I mean, subject to the things below that come to be and pass away — eagerly awaiting their end and their revelation, that it too may then obtain the freedom that is hoped for, as now unwillingly bound to these things by the power of him who created it; but it also joins in glorifying and joins in exulting with the children of God as they rejoice.

Therefore — for I will not refrain from divine words while expounding a divine power — let the desert rejoice, and let it blossom as the lily: the Church that but yesterday and the day before, as it seemed, was a widow and husbandless, and every soul that until now has been shrunk together beneath the envious and joyless winter of impiety;

for the Lord has had mercy on his people, and has not abandoned his inheritance;

for he has done wondrous things, an ancient and true counsel;

and this was the counsel: to take pleasure in those who fear him, and in those who hope in his mercy;

for he broke the gates of bronze, and shattered the bars of iron;

on account of our transgressions we were brought low, but we were called back again, and, the snare being broken, we were delivered by the grace of him who called us, of God who comforts the lowly in heart.

Do you see how I weave my song out of divine words and divine thoughts? And I do not know how it is that I am exalted and adorned by what belongs to another, and become, as it were, inspired by the sheer pleasure of it;

while I hold in dishonor everything low and merely human, joining one thing to another and fitting them together, and bringing into one the utterances of that same Spirit? 15.

Now formerly God showed forth his wonders: Enoch being translated, Elijah being taken up, Noah being preserved — and preserving with himself, in a small piece of wood, the seeds of the world's races, while the inhabited world fled the flood — so that the earth might again be adorned with more pious inhabitants;

Abraham being called, and honored beyond his years with a son, in faith of another promised seed, and offering his only-begotten as a willing sacrifice, and receiving in the boy's place a strange victim;

the astonishing destruction of the impious, overwhelmed with fire and brimstone; the even more astonishing snatching-away of the pious; a pillar of salt triumphantly displaying the turning back toward evil;

Joseph too, being sold, and being desired, and remaining chaste, and being made wise by God, and being set free, and gaining power, and dispensing grain in service of a greater providence;

Moses being deemed worthy of a theophany, and being given the law and giving the law, and becoming a god to Pharaoh, and leading Israel toward the land of promise;

the numbered plagues of the Egyptians, and the salvation of those who toiled in the very midst of the Egyptians;

the sea withdrawing at the rod, and closing together at the word, escorting some across as on dry land, and, according to its own nature, flowing back upon others

and all the other things that followed upon these: a pillar of cloud overshadowing by day, a pillar of fire giving light by night, both of them guiding the way;

bread raining down in the wilderness, meat sent down from heaven;

the one proportioned to need, the other even beyond need;

water from the rock, the one brought forth, the other made sweet;

Amalek warred down by prayer, and by an unspoken, mystical posture of the hands;

the sun standing still, and the moon held back, and the Jordan turned back;

walls shaken down by the circling of priests, and by the sound of trumpets, and by a number that held power;

the ground and the fleece, alternately being wetted and remaining dry;

strength residing in hair, counterbalancing a whole army;

a few chosen men lapping water, and being trusted to conquer, and conquering, according to the hopes placed in them — the small number overcoming the far greater thousands

Why must I number one by one all that has been wrought through Christ himself at his saving advent and incarnation, and all that, after him and through him, has been worked as wonders by his sacred apostles and the ministers of the word? How many books and how many records bear witness to these things, so that another generation, and the successions of generations, might know the wonders of the might of God!

But since it is not possible to make these things clear without first setting forth the magnitude of the danger;

and this in turn is not possible without exposing the malice of his character, and from what beginnings and seeds of wickedness he fell into so great a misfortune, gradually increasing his impiety just as the most bitter of reptiles and beasts increase their venom — we shall leave it to books and histories to enact in full tragic detail all that he did;

for we have no leisure to rehearse at greater length than the present subject requires;

but going through a few things out of many, we shall leave behind for those who come after us something like an inscribed stele, proceeding in our discourse to the most important and most notorious of the events concerning him.

In the first place, he was saved by the great Constantius, who had just succeeded his father to the power (at the time when the army rose in arms against those in office, making innovation out of fear of innovation, and the palace was being reconstituted under new masters) —

he had no gratitude for his salvation — not toward the emperor through whom he had been saved;

but he was found evil toward both: toward the one, being in travail with apostasy; toward the other, with rebellion.

But what I must say before these things: they were deemed worthy of royal sustenance and attendance in one of the imperial estates, by the most humane emperor, as being preserved for the throne as remnants of the family;

at once devising a defense for the innovations that had been done at the beginning of his reign, as though they had not been ventured by his own judgment;

and at the same time seeking to display his magnanimity by sharing the throne with them;

and thirdly, to establish his rule more securely through these additions — a plan of one whose intentions were more kindly than wise.

Since they had leisure from all affairs — their royal position being still in the future and only being contemplated, while their age together with their prospects did not yet bring them to the second ranks of office — they made use also of teachers of the other branches of learning, their imperial kinsman having them fully instructed in the whole cycle of general education;

and they made even greater use of our own philosophy, not that concerned with words alone, but that which through conduct also possesses piety;

consorting with the most earnest of men, and with the most graceful of deeds, deeds that carried within them a great display of virtue;

indeed, they even enrolled themselves in the ranks of the clergy, so far as even to read the divine books aloud to the people, considering this to be inferior in glory to nothing, but rather piety to be the greatest ornament of all.

By most costly memorials to the martyrs, and by lavish offerings of votive gifts, and by all the things whereby the fear of God is marked, they made known their love of wisdom and their love of Christ;

the one, truly and in fact being pious;

for indeed, even though he was rather hot-tempered by nature, he was nonetheless genuine in his piety;

while the other, merely buying off the occasion, and hiding his malice beneath a fabricated show of gentleness.

For indeed I could not pass over the marvel that occurred — one exceedingly worthy of remembrance, and able to instruct many of the impious.

Both of them, as I said, labored for the martyrs, and vied splendidly with each other, raising up the house with much manpower and expense;

but since their labor did not proceed from the same intention, neither did it advance to a similar outcome for both of them;

for the work of the one — I mean the elder of the brothers — was completed, and proceeded according to reason, since God readily accepted his offering, as with Abel's sacrifice, rightly both presented and divided;

and the offering was, as it were, a kind of consecration of a firstborn;

but as for the other's — alas, that even from this point the disgrace of the impious was already being attested by what followed, and by small signs proclaiming beforehand great things! — his offering the God of the martyrs sent away, just as he had once sent away the sacrifice of Cain.

And he labored, but the earth shook off what had been labored upon.

And he contended all the more, but the earth refused to receive the foundations of one so unsound toward piety, as though crying aloud the earthquake that would come from him, and honoring the martyrs by the very dishonor shown toward the most impious man.

This deed was a kind of prophecy of the man's later self-will and madness, of his dishonoring of the martyrs, and of his transgression against the holy houses;

escaping the notice of the rest, but pursuing the persecutor beforehand from afar, and signaling in advance the wages of impiety;

O soul clever at doing evil, yet not escaping its own torment!

O God proclaiming beforehand what was to come, that He might either check the impiety or show forth His foreknowledge!

O wonder, paradoxical indeed, but even more true than paradoxical!

O the brotherly love of the martyrs!

They did not accept honor from him who was to dishonor many martyrs;

they did not accept a gift from him who was to make many into contestants — or rather would even begrudge them the contest itself;

to be insulted, while the others were to be laid out and tended by pious hands, nor to give the sophist of wickedness occasion to boast in his outrages;

so that it might not be that by the same hand some memorials of martyrs were raised up, and others torn down;

and that some martyrs be honored while others dishonored, the honor in outward show barely outrunning the true dishonor;

nor, on top of the greatness of his outrage, let him think himself wise in his own estimation, supposing that, as he escapes the notice of men, so too he escapes God, who is sharpest and wisest of all, and who catches the wise in their own craftiness, through the pretext he puts forward;

but let him know that he is understood, and not be exalted in pride when he is found out.

For even though the God of the martyrs did not restrain the impiety, nor at once dry up or check, as one checks an evil stream, the wickedness that was being contrived and hidden — for reasons known to Himself, according to His ineffable wisdom and governance, by which He also ordained that the iniquities of the Amorites should be filled up;

yet it was necessary that the malice be hated, and the honor be rejected for the sake of the many, and that God's impartiality and purity concerning all that is offered to Him be shown.

For He who said to Israel when it was acting impiously:

"If you offer fine flour, it is in vain;

incense is an abomination to Me";

and would not accept their new moons, their Sabbaths, and the great day;

for, being full, He has need of nothing human and small, that He should delight even in things offered unworthily;

abhorring the sacrifice of the lawless man, even if it be a calf, as though it were a dog's, and reckoning frankincense as blasphemy, and casting out of the sanctuary and shaking off the wages of a harlot — while honoring that sacrifice alone which pure hands offer to the most pure One, and a mind lofty and purified;

what wonder is it, then, if He did not accept even that man's homage, offered wickedly and with wicked intent — He who does not see as man sees, nor looks upon what appears outwardly, but upon the hidden man, and upon the inner workshop of vice or of virtue? This, then, is how it stands;

and if anyone disbelieves, we call to witness those who themselves beheld it;

and there are many who have handed down, and will hand down, this wonder both to us and to those who come after.

But when, now advancing toward manhood, they laid hold of the doctrines of philosophy (would that they never had!) and acquired the power that comes from reason — which becomes for the reasonable a weapon of virtue, but for the more depraved a goad of vice — he was no longer able to contain the whole disease, nor to keep the deceit of his impiety entirely to himself alone;

but, like a fire smoldering within wood, which, even before it rises into a bright flame, is betrayed by certain sparks that kindle, or by smoke rising from its depths;

or, if you will, like springs which run beneath certain underground channels together with a current of air, and then, having no wide space nor free outlet, gush up and resound from below in many places of the earth, driven upward by the force of the air, yet held down and checked by the pressure from above;

so too he himself concealed the greater part of his impiety, on account of the times and the discipline of the reigning power;

for it was not yet safe to be openly impious;

yet there were times when he laid bare the secret of his mind to those keener in detecting impiety than in understanding generally;

and in his arguments with his brother he contended on behalf of the pagans more than was fitting — under the pretext, to be sure, of exercising the weaker argument, but it was in truth an exercise against the truth — and delighting in all the marks that characterize an impious disposition,

and delighting to consort with them (for Asia was his school of impiety, that land which makes such prodigious claims about astronomy and horoscopes, and about the semblance of foreknowledge, and about the sorcery that follows upon these);

one thing alone was still lacking: that power should be added to his impiety.

Not long after, this power was given him against us by the multiplied lawlessness of the many, and by the — one might say — excessive prosperity of the Christians, which sought its own reversal, and by our authority and honor, and by the surfeit through which we grew insolent;

For in truth it seems to be a harder thing to retain good things than to acquire what one does not yet possess;

and it is easier, through diligence, to recall a prosperity that has departed than to preserve one that already exists;

and, as the Proverbs well say, before destruction goes pride, and before glory, humility;

or, to put it more plainly: ruin follows upon pride, but good repute follows upon humility;

for the Lord resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble, and He who justly measures out all things brings in opposites in exchange for opposites;

and he confesses gratitude to Him who humbled him, since from this comes the learning of His statutes;

and, "Before I was humbled," he says, "I went astray;

therefore I have kept your word";

placing humility between error and correction, as being begotten of the one, and giving birth to the other;