歌羅西書講道集 第 13 章 第 2/2 段

and, what is far more wonderful, He will turn about the dissoluteness, the desire that flows away and is cold, and will translate it into the spiritual.

This is to make wine out of water.

Where there are flute-players, Christ is nowhere present;

but even if He should enter, He first casts these out, and then works His wonders.

What is more distasteful than the pomp of Satan, where all is inarticulate, where all is meaningless? And if there be anything articulate, again all is shameful, all is loathsome.

Nothing is sweeter than virtue, nothing more delightful than decorum, nothing more to be desired than gravity of soul.

Let a man celebrate weddings such as I describe, and he shall behold true pleasure.

But what sort of weddings? Give heed.

First of all, seek for the maiden a husband who is truly a man and a protector, as one who is about to set a head upon a body — as one about to hand over to him not a slave, but a daughter.

Do not seek wealth, nor splendour of lineage, nor greatness of country; all these things are superfluous. Rather seek reverence of soul, gentleness, true prudence, and the fear of God, if you wish your little daughter to live in gladness.

For if you seek a wealthier husband, you will not only fail to benefit her, but will even harm her, making her a slave instead of a free woman.

For she will not reap so much pleasure from his gold as she will bitterness from her servitude.

But do not seek these things; rather seek above all one of equal standing.

But if that be not possible, seek one poorer rather than more affluent — that is, if you wish to give your daughter to a husband, and not to sell her to a master.

When you have carefully examined the man's virtue and are about to give her in marriage, call upon Christ to be present.

It is a mystery of His presence.

Most of all, then, even at that time make your entreaty, that He may grant such a suitor.

Do not become worse than the servant of Abraham, who, when sent upon so great a journey, knew whither he must have recourse.

When you take pains and search out the husband, pray.

Say: 'Whomsoever Thou wilt, do Thou dispose.'

Entrust to Him the matter, and being honoured by you with this honour, He will requite you.

Two things, then, must you do: both entrust it to Him, and seek such a one as He Himself would wish — orderly and self-controlled.

When therefore you make the wedding, do not go about the houses borrowing mirrors and garments.

For the matter is not for display, nor are you leading your little daughter forth into a pageant.

But rather, brightening your house with what you have, call in neighbours and friends and kinsfolk.

As many as you know to be seemly, these call, and exhort them to be content with what is provided.

Let none from the theatre be present.

For there the expense is superfluous and vain.

Call Christ before all others.

Do you know by whom you shall call Him? 'Whosoever,' He says, 'shall do it to one of these least, has done it unto Me.'

Do not think it a disagreeable thing to invite the poor for Christ's sake.

Disagreeable it is to invite harlots.

For to invite the poor — this is an occasion of wealth, but that other, of ruin.

Adorn the bride, not with these ornaments of gold, but with gentleness and modesty and her accustomed garments; instead of all adornment of gold and braided tresses, put upon her blushing and bashfulness, and the refusal to desire such things.

Let there be no uproar, no confusion.

Let the bridegroom be called; let him receive the maiden.

Let the meals and suppers be full, not of drunkenness, but of spiritual pleasure.

For from such a wedding numberless good things will come, and the affairs of life will stand in security.

But from the weddings now celebrated (if indeed one ought to call them weddings, and not rather pageants), see how many are the evils.

The bridal chambers are broken up, and straightway comes anxiety and fear lest anything of the borrowed things should be lost; and an unbearable dejection succeeds the pleasure.

But this indeed is the agony of the mother-in-law.

Or rather, not even the bride herself has been set free.

For all that comes after belongs to the bride herself.

For to behold all things dismantled is a ground of dejection; to behold the house left empty is an occasion of downcast gloom.

There is Christ, here is Satan.

There is cheerfulness, here is care.

There is pleasure, here is grief.

There is expense, here nothing of the sort; there is unseemliness, here is good order.

There is envy, here is freedom from grudging.

There is drunkenness, here is sobriety; here is salvation, here is self-control.

Considering, then, all these things, let us set a stop to the evil at this point, that we may please God and be counted worthy to attain the good things promised to those who love Him, 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 the ages. Amen.