Sermons on the Song of Songs

Thus have I, my brethren, according to my imperfection, applied my present text to myself. But perfect will the man have to be who can say in a different sense, “My vineyard I have not kept.” I mean, in that sense in which the Saviour says in the Gospel, “He that shall lose his life for Me, shall find it.” He is truly qualified and worthy to be made “keeper in the vineyards,” who is not turned aside or prevented by the care of his own vineyard from diligence and solicitude with regard to those of his brethren which may be committed to his charge; because he seeks not the things that are his own, nor what is profitable to himself, “but to many.” For this reason, doubtless, St. Peter was made keeper in the many vineyards which were of the Circumcision, because he was a man prepared “to go to prison and to death.” Thus he showed how little he was held captive by the love of his own vineyard, viz., of his own interests, in such a way as not to be able to look after those others entrusted to his care. With good reason was St. Paul also made keeper of such a forest of vineyards amongst the gentiles. For neither was he found over-anxious in the care of his own. So far from it, indeed, that he was “ready not only to be bound, but to die also in Jerusalem, for the name of the Lord Jesus.” For, as he said elsewhere, “I fear none of these things, neither do I count my life more precious than myself.” Excellent valuator, who judges nothing of all that belongs to him to be preferable to himself!

Yet how many have rated of more worth than their own salvation a little of that vile thing we call money! St. Paul would not give such a preference even to his life. “Neither,” says he, “do I count my life more precious than myself.” Dost thou, therefore, O Paul, make a distinction between thy life and thyself? Justly couldst thou declare thyself to be of more value than anything that is thine. But how is thy life not rather thyself than thine? I take it, my brethren, that when he said this, the Apostle was “walking in the spirit” and mentally “consenting to the law of God, that it is good.” Therefore, he deemed it right to designate his mind, as his principal and noblest part, by the name of “self” rather than by any other title. The remaining (sensitive) part of his soul, which is evidently of an inferior nature and is wedded to the lower and baser essence, that is, to the body, not only by the office of imparting to it life and feeling, but also by the instinct to foster and nourish it—this sensual and carnal element, I say, St. Paul, as a spiritual man, considered unworthy to be called “self.” He judged it better to reckon it amongst the things that belonged to him, than to speak of it as if it adequately represented his personality. “When I speak of myself,” he seems to say, “think of that which is most excellent in me, and in which I stand by the grace of God, namely, my mind and reason. But when I talk of my life, I mean the inferior part of my soul which is employed in animating the body, and constitutes with it the principle of concupiscence. That, I confess, I once made myself to be, but now I do so no longer. For I do not now walk according to the flesh but according to the spirit. ‘I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.’ It is not I that live according to the law of my members, but it is I that live according to the law of my mind. And what if, even still, the inferior part of my soul lusts after the things of the flesh? ‘It is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.’ And hence, not me, but mine, should I call that in me which still savours of the flesh, and which is nothing else than my sensitive life or soul.” For in truth, her carnal affection is a part of the soul, as is also the life which she communicates to the body. This life of his sensitive soul, then, is the life or soul which St. Paul despises in comparison with himself, being “ready not only to be bound, but to die also in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus,” and so to lose his life, according to the counsel of Christ.

Do you also, my brethren, give up your own wills, completely renounce all that gratifies the body, crucify your “flesh with the vices and concupiscences” thereof, and “mortify your members which are upon the earth.” So shall you prove yourselves imitators of the Apostle because, like him, you will not have counted your lives more precious than yourselves. So shall you prove yourselves to be disciples of Christ, by losing your lives in this salutary way, as He recommends. And truly it is a more prudent course to lose it in order to save than to save it in order to lose it. “For, whosoever will save his life shall lose it.” What have you to say to this, you who are so fastidious with regard to your meals, so careless about your morals? Hippocrates and his disciples teach us to save our lives in this world. Christ and His apostles command us to lose them. Which of the two do you select for your master? But he makes it plain what leader he follows who brings forward such objections as these to the food provided for him by his superiors: “That is bad for the eyes, that causes headache, this injures the breast, that disorders the stomach.” We may presume that each person speaks according to what he has learned from his master. Now, I ask, have you found such distinctions of meats in the writings of the prophets or apostles? Assuredly, it was flesh and blood, and not the Spirit of the Father, that revealed to you this wisdom. For it is the wisdom of the flesh, and hear what our spiritual physicians think of it. “The wisdom of the flesh,” they tell us, “is death.” Also, “the wisdom of the flesh is the enemy of God.” Ought I to have proposed to you the doctrine of Hippocrates, or of Galenus, or that of the school of Epicurus, instead of the Gospel truth? But I am a disciple of Christ, and I am addressing Christians. Therefore, I should have sinned if I introduced any teaching foreign to the Gospel. Epicurus makes sensual enjoyment the supreme good. Hippocrates prefers a good condition of bodily health. But my Master preaches the contempt of both the one and the other of these things. Those philosophers seek with all diligence, and exhort us to seek, for the means of sustaining or of making pleasant the soul’s life in the body, the very thing which, according to the teaching of the Saviour, we ought to be prepared to lose.