論主禱文 第 1 章 第 1/4 段

Concerning the teaching of prayer, the divine word instructs us; by this teaching it lays down for his worthy disciples — those who earnestly seek the knowledge of prayer — how it is fitting to win the divine ear through the words of the prayer.

But I, venturing, would add a little something to what has been written: that this present assembly need not be taught how one must pray, but rather that one must by all means pray — a thing which, perhaps, the hearing of the many has not yet received.

For this sacred and God-inspired work, prayer, has been neglected in life and overlooked by the many.

Concerning this, then, it seems to me good first, as far as possible by argument, to bear witness that one must by all means persevere in prayer, as the apostle says, and then thus to hear the divine voice which lays down for us the manner in which we ought to bring our petition to the Lord.

For I see that everything else is pursued eagerly in the present life, each person's soul being turned to one thing or another, but the good of prayer is not a matter of earnestness for men.

The shopkeeper rises early for his business dealings, striving to display his own wares to the buyers before his fellow-tradesmen, so that he might anticipate the need of the one in want, forestalling the others, and sell off his own goods.

Likewise, the buyer too, having before his eyes the fear of failing to meet his need by being forestalled by another, runs not to the place of prayer but to the marketplace; and since all have an equal desire for gain, and strive to outdo their neighbor, the hour of prayer is stolen away by these pursuits, transposed into commerce.

So too the craftsman, so the man occupied with letters, so the litigant, so the one appointed to judge — each, wholly inclined with his whole zeal toward the matter at hand, has forgotten the work of prayer, judging his occupation with God to be a loss with respect to the task set before him.

For the one pursuing his craft supposes that divine alliance with respect to the task at hand is something idle and ineffective.

Therefore, abandoning prayer, he places his hopes in his own hands, forgetting the one who gave him his hands.

Likewise the one who perfects his eloquence through diligence attributes it to himself, and does not credit the one who gave him reason, but, as though he had brought himself into this nature, looks to himself and devotes himself to the pursuits of learning, and, thinking that none of the good things will come to him from God's cooperation, makes his zeal for study more prized than that for prayer.

In the same way, the rest of the occupations too, by care for bodily and earthly things, strike out the soul's occupation with greater and heavenly things.

With commerce, covetousness enters in together.

And covetousness is idolatry.

Thus the farmer does not measure his farming by necessary needs, but, ever extending his zeal toward more, gives sin ample entry against his occupation, encroaching upon the boundaries of others.

Whence hard-to-cure quarrels arise, as those gripped by the same disease of covetousness rise up against one another over the boundaries of land.

and their assaults on one another often end in bloodshed and murder.

Likewise the pursuits concerning the courts serve manifold sins, devising countless advocacies for injustice.

The judge either willingly tilts the scale of justice for the sake of gain, or, unwillingly deceived by the cunning of those who confound the truth, ratifies injustice.

And why should one speak of each particular case, by which sin, in manifold and various ways, is mixed into human life — the cause of which is nothing other than that men do not take God's help along with them in the matters they pursue? If prayer goes before the undertaking, sin will find no passage against the soul.

For when the remembrance of God is established in the heart, the devices of the adversary remain ineffective, since justice everywhere mediates in matters of dispute.

Prayer restrains the farmer, too, from sin, multiplying the fruits of the earth for a little labor, so that sin no longer enters in through the desire for more.

So too the traveler, so the one setting out for military service or marriage, so anyone whatsoever who has an impulse toward something — if he should do each thing with prayer, he will be turned away from sinning by good success in what he pursues, since nothing contrary drags his soul down toward passion.

But if, having departed from God, he should give himself wholly to his pursuit, it is altogether necessary that he who is outside God should by all means be in the opposite camp.

He who does not join himself to God through prayer is separated from God.

Therefore this we must first be taught by reason: that one must pray always, and not lose heart.

For from praying results being with God.

and he who is with God is separated from the adversary.

Prayer is a safeguard of self-control, a schooling of anger, a suppression of pride, a purification of resentment, an abolition of envy, a destruction of injustice, a correction of impiety.

Prayer is strength of bodies, prosperity of a household, good order of a city, might of a kingdom, trophy of war, security of peace, the gathering together of those divided, the continuance of those united.

Prayer is the seal of virginity, the fidelity of marriage, a weapon for travelers, a guard for those asleep, courage for those awake, fruitfulness for farmers, salvation for those who sail.

Prayer is an advocate for those on trial, a release for those in bonds, a rest for those wearied, a comfort for those grieving, a delight for those rejoicing, a consolation for those mourning, a crown for those marrying, a festival for birthdays, a burial-rite for those dying.

Prayer is converse with God, contemplation of things invisible, assurance of things desired, an equal honor with the angels, advancement in good things, a turning away from evil things, correction of sins committed, enjoyment of things present, the substance of things hoped for.

Prayer made the sea-monster a house for Jonah; it led Hezekiah back from the gates of death to life; it turned the flame into a dewy breeze for the three young men; it raised up a trophy for the Israelites against the Amalekites; and it laid low a hundred and eighty-five thousand of the Assyrians in a single night by the invisible sword.

And besides these, one can find countless examples from things already accomplished, by which it becomes evident that nothing among the things valued in life is higher than prayer.

But it would now be time to occupy ourselves with the prayer itself.

Rather, let us add a little more still to our discourse: that, since many and manifold good things have come to us from divine grace, we have this one thing in return for what we have received — to repay our benefactor through prayer and thanksgiving.

I reckon, then, that even if we should extend our converse with God throughout the whole of life, giving thanks and praying, we fall as far short of the worth owed in repayment as if we had not even at the outset been eager to make any return to our benefactor.

The interval of time is measured in three divisions: the past, the present, and the future.

In these the benefaction of the Lord is comprehended.

If you consider the present, you live in him;

if the future, he is your hope of things expected;

if the past, you would not exist before you came to be from him.

You were benefited, having received your very existence from him; and having come to be, you are benefited by living and moving in him, as the apostle says.

The hopes of things to come depend on this same benefaction.

But you are lord only of the present.

So that, even if you never cease giving thanks to God continually, you will scarcely fulfill the debt of gratitude for the present alone, since you can devise no means at all, either for the future or for the past, toward repaying what is owed.

But we, falling so far short even of the thanksgiving that is within our power, are not even grateful to the extent that we are able — I do not say devoting every day, but not even the smallest fraction of a day, to leisure spent with God.

Who spread the earth beneath me? Who by design made the watery nature passable underfoot? Who fixed the heaven above me like a vault? Who bears aloft for me the torch of the sun's light? Who sends forth springs in the ravines? Who prepared paths for the rivers? Who yoked to me the service of the irrational animals? Who made me, though I was lifeless dust, to partake of life and understanding? Who fashioned this clay after the image of the divine character? Who, when the divine image in me had been confounded through sin, led it back again to its original grace? Who draws me, though I was banished from paradise, and cast outside the tree of life, and covered over in the abyss of material life, back up to my first blessedness? 'There is none that understands,' says the Scripture.

For indeed, if we looked to these things, we would render thanksgiving unceasing and unending throughout the whole span of life.

But as it is, almost the whole of human nature is awake only to material things; toward this its zeal is directed, in this its eagerness; about these things its memory and its hope are occupied.

Human nature is sleepless and unresting in its desire for more, in every matter in which it is possible to find more — whether in honor and glory, or in abundance of possessions, or in the disease of anger — everywhere in these things nature looks toward getting more.

But of the true goods of God there is no account at all, neither of those already manifest, nor of those promised.

But it would now be time to examine, as far as possible, the meaning of the words of the prayer.

For it is clear that obtaining what we wish comes about through learning how it is fitting to make our request.

What, then, is the teaching? 'When you pray,' he says, 'do not babble, as the Gentiles do;'

for they think that they will be heard for their much speaking.

Perhaps, then, the sense of this teaching has its clarity self-evident, being set forth to us rather plainly, and needing no further subtle examination;

nevertheless it is worth examining what the word 'babbling' signifies, so that, having learned its meaning, we might keep ourselves outside of what is forbidden.

For speech that is sensible and prudent and looks to what is useful is properly called speech; but speech poured out upon nonexistent desires through unsubstantial pleasure is not speech, but babbling — or, as one interpreting the sense more in Greek fashion might say, nonsense, and idle talk, and foolish chatter, and whatever else belongs to such a meaning.

What, then, does reason counsel us? Not to suffer, at the time of prayers, the same thing that occurs in the mind of infants.

In their minds they imagine whatever the vanity of their reasonings suggests to them; and there are some who lay hold of this vanity even more boldly still, and, exceeding the measures of nature, either become winged, or shine like the stars, or carry mountains in their hand, or make a road for themselves through the sky, or last for ten thousand years, becoming young again out of old age, or whatever other such bubble-like and empty fabrications the heart of the more childish brings forth. Just as, then, in practical matters, one who does not reason about such things by which some good might come to the one deliberating, but instead indulges vainly in nonexistent desires, is foolish and wretched, wasting on these dreams the time he should spend deliberating to do something profitable — so too the one who, at the time of prayer, is not stretched out toward what benefits the soul, but requests that God conform himself to the passionate movements of his mind, is truly a babbler and idle talker, praying that God become a fellow-worker and servant of his own vanities.

Someone approaches God through prayer, and, not having grasped in his mind the height of the power to which he draws near, unwittingly insults that greatness by the shameful and lowly nature of his requests.

It is as if someone, on account of extreme poverty or rusticity, considered vessels made of clay to be precious, and then, approaching a king who is disposed to distribute whole riches and honors, should leave aside royal requests and instead ask that this one — who fashions clay into so great a dignity — should make something pleasing to himself out of it. So too the one who uses prayer without instruction does not raise himself up to the height of the Giver, but desires that the divine power come down to the low and earthly level of his own desire; and for this reason he sets forth his passionate impulses before the one who sees hearts — not so that he might heal the disordered movements of his mind, but so that they might become worse, since his wicked impulse advances into action through the cooperation of God.

For since so-and-so grieves me, and my heart is ill-disposed toward him, 'Strike him,' he says to God — all but crying out this: 'Let my passion become yours, and let my wickedness pass over onto you.'

For just as in human battles it is not possible for someone to fight as an ally of one side without being provoked along with the one who is angered against his adversary, so it is clear that the one who moves God against his enemy is inviting him to become angry along with him, and to become a partner in his wrath.

But this is to make God fall into passion, and to be disposed in a human manner, and to be transformed from his good nature into brutish harshness.

So too the one mad for glory, so the one who in arrogance desires to have the greater share, the one who hastens toward victory in a lawsuit, the one who presses on toward the crown in athletic contests, the one who lays claim to acclaim in the theaters, and often too the one wasted away with the raging passion of youth —

all these bring their petitions to God, not so that they might be freed from the sickness that dominates them, but so that their disease might come to its fulfillment; and, each judging failure to attain these things as a misfortune, they truly babble, entreating God to become a fellow-worker in the sickness of their minds.

And the most grievous thing of all is that they wish the divine to be moved by contrary impulses for them, dividing the activity of God into savagery and loving-kindness.

For him whom they seek to be gracious and gentle toward themselves, they entreat to show himself bitter and harsh toward their enemies.

O the folly of those who babble in prayer!

For if God is harsh to them, he is surely not gentle to you either.

But if, according to your own hope, he inclines toward mercy in your case, how could he change to the opposite, transforming mercy into bitterness? But the objection of the contentious to such a point lies ready at hand.

...desiring it, and Hosea praying that a barren womb and dry breasts be given to his enemies — they gather up many such instances scattered throughout the holy Scriptures, maintaining that one ought to pray against one's adversaries, and making God's goodness a collaborator in their own bitterness.

But we, so that we might, in passing, stop from their babbling those who are led by such an occasion toward the opposite conclusion, will set forth this regarding each of the examples mentioned.

None of the truly holy men, those borne by the Holy Spirit, whose sayings were recorded by divine dispensation for the admonition of those who came after, will be shown to have his zeal directed toward any evil; rather, the whole aim of their words looks toward the correction of the evil that dwells within nature.

Just as, then, one who prays that there be no sick people, no poor people, does not desire the destruction of human beings, but the disappearance of sickness and poverty, so also each of the saints, having in prayer the desire that what is hostile and inimical to nature come to nothing, gives to the less educated the suspicion that they are embittered and angry against human beings.

For the Psalmist, when he says, "Let sinners and the lawless fail from the earth," so that they be no more, prays for sin and lawlessness to fail.

For man is not the enemy of man, but the movement of the will toward evil has placed one who is united by nature in the rank of an enemy.

He prays, then, that evil fail.

But man is not evil.

For how could the likeness of the good be evil? Thus, even when he prays for the shame and confusion of enemies, he shows you the throng of adversaries who, proceeding from the invisible enemy, wage war against human life — concerning whom Paul also speaks more plainly, saying that our struggle is against the principalities and powers and the world-rulers of this world, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.

For the demonic plots, through which evil occurrences leading to sin are brought upon men — angry encounters, occasions of desire, the grounds of envy and hatred and pride and such evils — seeing these things running about, plotting against the soul of each person, the great prophet, praying against these enemies, prays that they come to shame.

And this is nothing other than his being saved.

For it naturally follows that the one defeated in the wrestling-match is ashamed of his fall, just as it follows the one who has prevailed to exult in his victory.

And that this is so, the form of the prayer makes clear.

"Let those who seek my soul," he says, "be ashamed and confounded."

For he does not pray against those who plot the loss of money, or dispute about the boundaries of land, or show some evil against his body, but against those who plot against his soul.

But what plot against the soul is there, what other, except estrangement from God? And the human soul is estranged from God in no other way than through a passionate disposition.

Since, then, the divine is without passion, everything that comes to be in passion is cut off from union with the divine.

So that he might not suffer this, he prays for the shame of those who wrestle against him.

And this is nothing other than to pray for victory over the enemies for himself.

And the enemies are the passions.

Thus Jeremiah, having a zeal for the worship of God, when the king at that time was mad for idols and his subjects were perverted along with him, tends to no private passion of his own, but brings his petition on behalf of humanity in common, asking that, by the assault against those who acted impiously, the whole of humankind might be brought to soundness of mind.

Likewise, the prophet Hosea also, seeing evil at that time proliferating richly among the Israelites, condemns it to childlessness, and wills that the bitter breasts of sin be dried up, so that evil might neither be born among men nor be nourished.

He looks entirely toward such a meaning, which banishes evil, but does not destroy man.

"God did not make death" — do you hear the pronouncement?

How then was he going to entreat, for the death of his own enemies, the God who is a stranger to the working of death? "He does not delight in the destruction of the living."

But the one who babbles in prayer, and stirs up God's loving-kindness against his own enemies, is thereby bidding him to take delight in human misfortunes.

"But," someone says, "some have already been deemed worthy of offices and honors and wealth, having made use of prayer for this purpose, and through such good fortune have been supposed to be dear to God."

"Why, then," one might say, "do you keep us from bringing petitions to God concerning such things?" But that all things are suspended from the divine will, and that this life here is governed from above, is clear to everyone, and no one could contradict this statement.

But we have learned other reasons for such successes of prayer — not that God grants these to those who ask as goods without qualification, but so that, through these, faith in God might be confirmed for the more superficial, and that, learning by experience little by little, in the lesser requests, that God hearkens to supplications, we might at some point ascend to the desire for lofty and God-befitting gifts.

Just as we observe with our own children, who at first cling to the mother's breast, seeking from her who bore them as much as nature allows; but if the infant should grow a little stronger and acquire some power of speech, it despises the breast, and seeks instead some ornament, or garment, or such things as delight the eyes of infants; and when it comes to maturity and the mind grows together with the body, then, having left behind all childish desires, it will ask from its parents the things befitting a mature life — so also God, accustoming man to look to him in all things, for this reason often does not remain deaf even to the lesser requests, so that, by his beneficence in small things, he might summon the one who has obtained the favor toward the desire of loftier things.

So you too, if some particular person has, by divine providence, become well-known and conspicuous from obscurity, or has acquired some other of the things sought after in this life — office, or wealth, or renown — understand the purpose: that this loving-kindness in such matters becomes for you a proof of God's power in great things, so that, through obtaining childish playthings, you might bring to the Father your petitions concerning greater and more perfect things.

And these are whatever things bring gain to the soul.

For indeed it would be among the most unreasonable things, having come to God, to seek from the eternal One things temporal, from the heavenly One things earthly, from the exalted One things low and groveling, from him who bestows the kingdom of heaven this earthly and lowly good fortune, from him who grants things that cannot be taken away the brief use of things belonging to others — things whose removal is necessary, whose enjoyment is temporary, and whose management is fraught with danger.

And he well shows the absurdity by this addition, saying, "as the Gentiles do."

For to be zealous about things that appear is characteristic of those who set for themselves no hope in the age to come — neither fear of judgment, nor threat of Gehenna, nor expectation of good things, nor anything else of what is hoped for concerning the resurrection — who, looking toward the present life after the manner of cattle, judge to be among goods whatever they gratify to throat and belly and the rest of the body's pleasures, or being first among some and being reckoned above the rest, or sleeping upon many talents, or whatever else belongs to the deceit of worldly life; to such people, if anyone should speak of the hope to come, going through paradise and kingdom and the heavenly way of life and such things, it seems to be sheer nonsense.

He says that this is spoken concerning those who suppose that, by their persistent entreaty about improper things, they will have the divine as an ally in what is not fitting.

"For they think," he says, "that they will be heard for their much speaking."

But these things — what one ought not to ask for — we have been taught through what we have examined.

But what kind of petition it is fitting to bring to God, let us hear in what follows, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might unto the ages of ages.

HOMILY II. "Our Father, who art in the heavens." When the great Moses was leading the people of Israel to the mystagogy on the mountain, he did not deem them worthy of the divine manifestation beforehand, until he had first ordained for the people the purification by purity and sprinkling.

And even so they did not have courage before the manifestation of the divine power, but were terrified at everything that appeared — the fire, the darkness, the smoke, the trumpets.

And turning back again upon themselves, they asked that the lawgiver become for them a mediator of the divine will, since their own capacity was not sufficient to draw near to God and receive the divine manifestation.

But our lawgiver, our Lord Jesus Christ, being about to lead us forward by divine grace, does not beforehand set before us in his word a Mount Sinai covered with darkness and smoking with fire, nor the sounds of trumpets echoing something indistinct and terrifying, nor does he purify the soul through three days of purifications and water washing away filth, nor does he leave the whole assembly behind at the foot of the mountain and grant to one man alone the ascent to the summit of the mountain, the summit covered with the darkness that conceals the glory of God; but first, instead of the mountain, he leads us up to heaven itself, having made it accessible to men through virtue; and then he makes us not merely spectators of the divine power, but also partakers, and brings those who approach into a kind of kinship with the transcendent nature; nor does he hide the surpassing glory in darkness, so that it be difficult to behold for those who seek it, but, illuminating the darkness with the far-shining light of his teaching, in bright clear sky he has caused the ineffable glory to be seen by those pure in heart.

And he grants that the water for sprinkling be not from foreign streams, but that which wells up within us — whether one should call it the fountains of the eyes, or the pure conscience of the heart, bringing with it no mud from evil.

And having legislated purity not only from the lawful intercourse of spouses, but from every material and passionate disposition, he thus leads us to God through prayer.

For this is the power of the words, through which we learn by this discourse not certain sounds uttered in syllables, but a conception of the ascent to God accomplished through a lofty way of life.

And it is possible, through the very words of the prayer, to understand the divine mystagogy.

He did not say, "Whenever you vow," but, "Whenever you pray," as though what pertains to the vow ought already to have been accomplished beforehand, before drawing near to God through prayer.

But what is the difference between these two terms in their meaning? That a "vow" is a promise of something dedicated according to piety, while "prayer" is a request for good things brought to God with supplication.

Since, then, we have need of boldness when we approach God, making supplications for things that are profitable, that which pertains to the vow must necessarily come first, so that, having accomplished what is on our part, we may thus with confidence be deemed worthy to receive what is from God.

So that we may know that a vow is, as has been said, a promise of a thank-offering;

whereas "prayer" signifies the approach to God that takes place after the fulfillment of the promise.

For one must first make a vow, and then pray, just as one might say that sowing precedes the harvest.

Therefore we must first sow the seeds of the vow, and thus, when the sowing of the seeds has grown, reap its fruit, receiving grace through prayer.

Since, then, our petition will not be made with boldness unless the approach comes after some vow already made and an offering brought beforehand, the vow will necessarily precede prayer.

So, as though this had already been accomplished, the Lord says to the disciples, "When you pray, say: Our Father, who art in the heavens."