提多書講道集 第 2 章

'For this cause I left you in Crete, that you should set in order the things that are lacking, and appoint elders in every city, as I directed you:'

'if any man is blameless, the husband of one wife, having faithful children, not accused of riot or unruly.'

For the men of old, their whole life was active and full of contest;

but with us it is not so; rather, it is full of sloth.

For they knew that they had been brought into the world for this end, that they might labour according to the will of him who brought them forth;

but we, as though we had been brought forth for this—that we might eat and drink and live in luxury—so we make no account of any spiritual thing.

I speak not of the apostles only, but also of those who came after them.

You see them, at any rate, running everywhere, as though laying hold of this as their very work, and continually sojourning in a foreign land, inasmuch as they had no city upon the earth.

Hear, then, what this blessed one says:

'For this cause I left you in Crete.'

As though they had parcelled out the whole inhabited world among themselves like a single household, so they ministered to all things, and took care of the people everywhere, one taking this portion, another that.

'For this cause,' he says, 'I left you in Crete, that you should set in order the things that are lacking.'

He does not for the present exhort him in the manner of a command;

Do you see a soul pure of all envy, everywhere seeking the profit of those being taught, not scrupulously inquiring whether it comes about through himself or through another? For where there was danger and much difficulty, he undertook it himself;

but those things which brought honour rather, or carried praise, these he entrusts to his disciple—I mean the ordinations of bishops, and all the other matters that needed some setting in order, or, as one might say, further completion.

What are you saying, tell me? Your affairs are being set right by another? And do you not consider the thing shameful, nor that it brings you disgrace? By no means;

for I look only to the common gain;

and whether it comes about through me or through another, it makes no difference to me. Thus ought the one who presides to be disposed: not to seek his own honour, but the common benefit.

'And that you should appoint,' he says, 'elders in every city.'

Here he means the bishops, as we have stated elsewhere.

For he did not wish the whole island to be entrusted to one man, but that each should have his own care and concern;

for thus the labour would be light for himself, and those under authority would enjoy greater diligence of care—provided that the teacher did not go about presiding over many churches, but devoted himself to one only, and adorned it well.

'If any man,' he says, 'is blameless, the husband of one wife, having faithful children, not accused of riot or unruly.'

For what reason does he bring forward even such a one into the midst? He stops the mouths of the heretics who slander marriage, showing that the thing is not accursed, but so honourable that with it one may even ascend to the holy throne;

and at the same time chastising the licentious, and not permitting this office to be entrusted to one who has entered upon a second marriage.

For one who has kept no goodwill toward her who has departed, how could such a man become a good president? What accusation would he not incur? For you all know, you know, that even if it is not forbidden by the laws to enter into a second marriage, yet nevertheless the thing carries many accusations.

He wishes, then, that the ruler give no handle to those under his rule.

For this reason he lays down, 'If any man is blameless'—that is, if his life has been free of accusation, if no one has been able to charge him in the course of his living.

Hear Christ saying:

'For if the light,' he says, 'that is in you be darkness, how great is that darkness!' 'Having faithful children, not accused of riot or unruly.'

Let us consider how great a forethought he exercises even on behalf of the children.

For one who has not been able to become the teacher of his own children, how could he become teacher of others? If those whom he had with himself from the beginning and reared, and over whom he had authority both from the laws and from nature, these he had not strength to bring into order, how will he be able to profit those outside? For unless there were much sluggishness in the father, he would not have overlooked those, over whom he received authority from the beginning, becoming wicked.

For it is not possible, it is not possible, that one reared from the beginning with much care, and having enjoyed much diligence, should become wicked;

for sins are not by nature, that they should prevail over so great a forethought.

But if he put the affairs of his children in the second place, occupying himself about money, and did not exercise such diligence over them, in this way too he is unworthy.

For if, where nature itself compelled him, he was so without natural affection, or so senseless, as to care more for money than for them, how could such a man be raised to the throne and so great an office? For if he was not able, great is the accusation of his sluggishness;

but if he was not diligent, great is the blame of his lack of natural affection.

The one, therefore, who neglects his own children, how will he take care of those who are not his own? And he did not say merely 'not riotous,' but that he should not even have such a slander against him, nor be of an evil reputation.

'For the bishop,' he says, 'must be blameless, as the steward of God, not self-willed, not soon angry, not given to wine, not a striker.'

For the ruler who is from without, since he holds sway by law and by necessity, reasonably does not in many respects share in the will of those under his rule;

but he who ought to rule over willing subjects, and over those who are grateful to him for his rule, if he so orders the matter as, from his own

will alone doing everything, and imparting a share of the decision to no one, has made his oversight more tyrannical than democratic.

'For he must,' he says, 'be blameless, as the steward of God, not self-willed, not soon angry.'

For how shall he teach others to master this passion, if he has not taught himself? For office leads one into many things, and makes even the very mild man harsh and hard to please, surrounding him with countless occasions of anger;

unless he has practised this beforehand, he will be both harsher, and will destroy and ruin many of the concerns of his office.

By 'striker' here he means the insolent man;

for one who admonishes or rebukes must do all things without insolence;

for what need is there of insolence, tell me? One must instil fear by the threat of hell, must alarm, must reach the heart.

For he who is insolently treated becomes the bolder, and rather despises the one who insults him.

For nothing so produces contempt as insolence, and it shames the insulter rather, and does not allow him to be respected as he ought.

Their speech must be full of much reverence, in dealing with sins must keep the remembrance of the coming judgement, and must be pure of all insolence;

but if there be any who hinder them from doing what is needful, they must proceed against the matter with all authority.

The teacher is a physician of souls;

and the physician does not strike, but sets right and heals the one who has been struck.

'Not greedy of filthy lucre, but hospitable, a lover of good, temperate, just, holy, self-controlled, holding fast the faithful word according to the teaching.'

Did you see how great a heightening of virtue he required? 'Not greedy of filthy lucre,' he says;

that is, showing great contempt for money;

'Hospitable, a lover of good, temperate, just, holy';

one who gives forth all his own goods to those in need, he says;

He did not mean here the one who fasts, but the one who masters passion, who governs both tongue and hand and unbridled eyes;

For this is self-control: to be dragged down by no passion whatsoever.

'Holding fast the faithful word according to the teaching.'

By 'faithful' here he means the true word, or that which has been handed down through faith, needing neither syllogisms nor debates.

'Holding fast' — that is, being watchful over it, making this his very work.

What then, if he be unskilled in outward eloquence? For this reason I said, 'the faithful word according to the teaching.'

'That he may be able both to exhort and to confute the gainsayers.'

So there is no need of a swelling of words, but of understanding, of experience in the Scriptures, and of power in thought.

Do you not see Paul, who turned the whole world upside down and prevailed more mightily than Plato and all the rest? 'But it was by signs,' one says.

Not by signs alone;

for if you go through the Acts of the Apostles, you will find him in many places prevailing by his teaching even before the signs.

'That he may be able also to exhort in the sound doctrine';

that is, for the protection of his own people, for the overthrow of his enemies.

'And to confute the gainsayers.'

For if this be lacking, all is lost.

For he who knows not how to war against his enemies, and to bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, and to cast down reasonings;

he who knows not what he ought to teach concerning right doctrine, let him be far from the teacher's chair.

For the other qualities one might find even among those who are subject, such as being blameless, having children in subjection, being hospitable, just, and holy;

but that which most especially characterizes the teacher is this: the being able to instruct in the word — for which there is now no forethought whatever.

'For there are many unruly men, vain talkers and deceivers, especially they of the circumcision;'

Do you see how he shows whence such men arise? From not being willing to be ruled, but to rule.

When therefore you cannot persuade them, do not give commands to these, but stop their mouths for the benefit of the others.

What then is the gain, when they are not persuaded, or even if they are unruly? For what reason ought one to stop their mouths? That others may be profited thereby.

'Who overthrow whole houses, teaching things which they ought not.'

For if a man has undertaken the office of teaching, but is not competent to contend with those men nor to stop the mouths of those who are so shameless, he will become responsible for the injury of each one of those who perish.

For if one gives counsel saying, 'Seek not to become a judge, unless you have strength to root out iniquity,' much more here might one say, 'Seek not to become a teacher, if you fall short of the worthiness of the task; nay, even if you are dragged to it, leap away.'

Do you see how everywhere covetousness and base gain are the cause of these things? 'Teaching,' he says, 'the things which they ought not, for the sake of filthy lucre.'

For there is nothing which these passions do not corrupt;

but just as certain fierce winds, falling upon a calm sea, heave it all up from below, so that even the sand is mingled with the waves;

even so these passions, entering into the soul, turn everything upside down, and blind the discerning faculty of the mind — but most of all the madness of vainglory.

For to despise money is easy for him who wills;

but to look down upon the honour that comes from the many needs much toil, great philosophy, and a soul that is well-nigh angelic, one that touches the very summit of heaven.

For there is not, there is not any passion so tyrannical and so universally prevailing — in greater measure in some and lesser in others, yet everywhere present nonetheless.

How then might we overcome it, if not utterly, yet at least in some small part? If we look up to heaven, if we set God before our eyes, if we take up a mind greater than earthly things.

Consider, when you desire glory, that you have obtained it, and learn its end, and you will find nothing;

consider how great a loss the thing brings, and of how many and how great blessings it robs you;

for you will undergo the toils and the dangers, but of the fruits and the rewards you will be deprived;

consider that the greater part of men are evil, and despise their glory.

Reckon up one by one who each is, and you will see the matter full of ridicule;

you will see that the thing is shame rather than glory;

and after this, lift up your reasoning to the theatre on high.

When, while doing some good deed, you think that you must display it also to men, and seek out certain spectators of the deed, and are in travail to be seen;

consider that God beholds you, and you will quench all that desire;

withdraw from the earth, look toward that theatre which is in the heavens.

Men, even if they praise you, yet afterward find fault, or envy, or take you to task;

and even if they do not this, they profit not at all the one who is praised;

but with God it is not so; rather He rejoices in praising our right deeds.

You have spoken well, and won applause; and what is the gain? For if indeed those who applauded were profited, and were changed, and became better, and departed from their former evils, one ought truly to rejoice — not over the praises that were given, but over the good and wonderful change.

But if they continue always praising and making a tumult and applauding, yet reap no fruit from the applause, one ought rather to grieve, because these things turn to their condemnation.

But you have a reputation for piety? If you are indeed pious, and are conscious of no wickedness in yourself, you ought to rejoice — not because you seem to be, but because you are;

if however you are not such, yet desire the glory of the many, consider that it is not these who will judge us in that day, but He who knows with exactness the things that are hidden.

But if, being conscious to yourself of sins, you are yet supposed by all to be pure, you ought not only not to rejoice, but even to grieve and to groan bitterly, thinking continually upon that day in which all things are revealed, in which the hidden things of darkness are brought to light.

Do you enjoy honour? Thrust it from you, knowing that it makes you a debtor.

Does no one render you honour? And you ought to rejoice at this;

for this too, among the rest, God will set before you — that you enjoyed honour.

Or do you not see how, along with His other benefits, God charges this also against them through the words:

'I took of your sons for prophets, and of your young men for sanctification'? If then you gain even this, that you will not be liable to a greater punishment.

For he who is not honoured in the present life, and is despised, and enjoys not even a word of regard, but is even insulted and spat upon — if nothing else, at least reaps this, that he is not liable also for this, namely for having been honoured by his fellow-servants.

And for many other reasons besides he gains from this;

he is drawn together, he is humbled, nor, even if he wished, will he ever be high-minded, if he attends rather to himself.

He however who enjoys much honour, besides being liable to great debts, is also lifted up into arrogance and vainglory, and becomes a slave of men.

Then, as this mastery over him grows, he is compelled to do many things which he does not wish.

Since therefore we know that this is better for us than that, let us neither seek honours, and let us thrust away those that are offered, cast them from us, and quench this desire.

These things have been said by us both to rulers and to the ruled.

For a soul that desires honour and to be glorified shall not see the kingdom of heaven.

This word is not mine, nor do I speak the sayings of my own; but it is of the divine Spirit;

it shall not see, even though it work virtue.

'For they have,' He says, 'their reward.'

He therefore who receives no reward, how shall he see the kingdom of heaven? I do not forbid the aiming at glory, but I would have you aim at the true glory, that which is from God;

'Whose praise,' he says, 'is not of men, but of God.'

In secret let us be pious, not clothing ourselves with much pomp and show and hypocrisy;

Let us cast off the sheep's fleece, or rather let us become sheep.

Nothing is more worthless than the glory that comes from men.

For tell me: if you were to see a multitude of little children—I mean infants at the breast—would you crave for glory from them? Then dispose yourself toward all men in the same way with regard to glory.

This is why it is called vainglory.

Do you not see the masks that actors put on upon the stage—how fair they are, how brilliant, how fashioned to the utmost perfection of comeliness? Can you show me such a countenance in reality? By no means.

What then? Did you ever fall in love with them? No.

Why? Because they are hollow, and imitate beauty, yet are not beauty.

So too glory is hollow, and imitates glory, yet is not glory.

That alone abides which is natural and within;

but this outward glory, laid over the surface, often conceals the ugliness beneath—it conceals it in the sight of men, and only until evening.

But when the theater breaks up and the masks are taken off, each one appears as what he truly is.

Let us not then pursue truth as though it were on a stage and in play-acting.

For tell me, what good is there in being gazed upon by the many? It is vainglory, and nothing else;

for go up into your house and be alone, and at once the whole thing has drained away.

Did you make your entrance into the marketplace? Did you turn the heads of those present? And what is the gain? Nothing;

it was quenched and departed like smoke that dissolves away.

Shall we then set our love on things that have no real substance? And how great, tell me, is the unreason in this? How great the folly? Let us therefore look to one thing only: how God will approve. If we regard this, we shall never seek the praise of men, but even should it come, we shall despise it, laugh it to scorn, and spit upon it;

we shall be disposed toward it just as if, longing for gold, we were given mud instead.

In the case of God, both these things—[His approval and disapproval]—carry with them either gain or loss;

but the things that come from men are all vain.

And in this respect we are made like unto God, that He too needs not the glory that comes from men;

for He says, 'I receive not glory from men.'

Is this a small thing, tell me? When you are unwilling to despise glory, say, 'By despising it I become like God,' and immediately you will despise it.

For it is impossible for a man who is a slave to glory not to be the slave of all men, and

more slavish than the very slaves themselves.

For we do not lay upon our own slaves such commands as she lays upon those whom she has taken captive;

she makes them both speak and suffer things base and full of shame;

and especially when she sees them obedient, she presses her commands the harder.

Let us then flee, let us flee, I beseech you, this slavery.

But how, one asks, shall we be able? If we cultivate wisdom concerning the things here below, if we see that present things are a dream and a shadow and nothing else, we shall easily get the better of her, and shall be caught neither in small matters nor in great;

but if we do not despise her in small things, we shall easily fall into her power in the greatest.

Let us therefore stem her springs from afar;

and these springs are folly and the possessing of a lowly soul;

for if we take up a lofty mind, we shall be able both to look down upon the honor that comes from the many, and to stretch our understanding toward heaven, and to attain the good things that are there;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.