Homilies on First Corinthians

^4. “What will you? Shall I come unto you with a rod, or in love and a spirit of meekness?”

There is much both of terror and of gentleness in this saying. For to say, “I will know,” was the language of one as yet withholding himself: but to say, “What will you? Must I come unto you with a rod?” are the words of one thenceforth ascending the teacher's seat, and from thence holding discourses with them and taking upon him all his authority.

What means, “with a rod?” With punishment, with vengeance: that is, I will destroy; I will strike with blindness: the kind of thing which Peter did in the case of Sapphira, and himself in the case of Elymas the sorcerer. For henceforth he no longer speaks as bringing himself into a close comparison with the other teachers, but with authority. And in the second Epistle too he appears to say the same, when he writes, “Since ye seek a proof of Christ speaking in me.”

“Shall I come with a rod, or in love?” What then? To come with a rod, was it not an instance of love? Of love it was surely. But because through his great love he shrinks back in punishing, therefore he so expresses himself.

Further; when he spoke about punishment, he said not, “in a spirit of meekness,” but, [simply,] “with a rod:” and yet of that too the Spirit was author. For there is a spirit of meekness, and a spirit of severity. He does not, however, choose so to call it, but from its milder aspect (ἀπὸ τῶν χρηστοτέρων.) And for a like reason also, God, although avenging Himself, has it often affirmed of Him that He is “gracious and long-suffering, and rich in mercy and pity:” but that He is apt to punish, once perhaps or twice, and sparingly, and that upon some urgent cause.

5. Consider then the wisdom of Paul; holding the authority in his own hands, he leaves both his and that in the power of others, saying, “What will you?” “The matter is at your disposal.”

For we too have depending on us both sides of the alternative; both falling into hell, and obtaining the kingdom: since God has so willed it. For, “behold,” says he, “fire and water: whichever way you will, you may stretch forth your hand” And, “If you be willing, and will hearken unto me, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you be not willing, the sword shall devour you.”

But perhaps one will say, “I am willing; (and no one is so void of understanding as not to be willing;) but to will is not sufficient for me.” Nay, but it is sufficient, if you be duly willing, and do the deeds of one that is willing. But as it is, you are not greatly willing.

And let us try this in other things, if it seem good. For tell me, he that would marry a wife, is he content with wishing? By no means; but he looks out for women to advance his suit, and request friends to keep watch with him, and gets together money. Again, the merchant is not content with sitting at home and wishing, but he first hires a vessel, then selects sailors and rowers, then takes up money on interest, and is inquisitive about a market and the price of merchandise. Is it not then strange for men to show themselves so much in earnest about earthly things, but that when they are to make a venture for heaven, they should be content with wishing only? Rather I should say, not even in this do they show themselves properly in earnest. For he that wills a thing as he ought, puts also his hand unto the means which lead to the object of his desire. Thus, when hunger compels you to take nourishment, you wait not for the viands to come unto you of their own accord, but omittest nothing to gather victuals together. So in thirst, and cold and all other such things, you are industrious and duly prepared to take care of the body. Now do this in respect of God's kingdom also, and surely you shall obtain it.

For to this end God made you a free agent, that you might not afterwards accuse God, as though some necessity had bound you: but you, in regard of those very things wherein you have been honored, murmur.

For in fact I have often heard people say, “But why did He then make my goodness depend on me?” Nay, but how was He to bring you, slumbering and sleeping, and in love with all iniquity, and living delicately, and pampering yourself; how was He to bring you up to heaven? If He had, you would not have abstained from vice. For if now, even in the face of threatening, you do not turn aside from your wickedness; had he added no less than heaven as the end of your race, when would you have ceased waxing more careless and worse by far? (χείρων πολλῷ. πολλῶν Bened.)

Neither again will you be able to allege, He has showed me indeed what things were good but gave no help, for abundant also is His promise to you of aid.

6. “But,” say you, “Virtue is burdensome and distasteful; while with vice great pleasure is blended; and the one is wide and broad, but the other strait and narrow.”

Tell me then, are they respectively such throughout, or only from the beginning? For in fact what you here say, you say, not intending it, in behalf of virtue; so potent a thing is truth. For suppose there were two roads, the one leading to a furnace, and the other to a Paradise; and that the one unto the furnace were broad, the other unto Paradise, narrow; which road would you take in preference? For although you may now gainsay for contradiction's sake, yet things which are plainly allowed on all hands, however shameless, you will not be able to gainsay. Now that that way is rather to be chosen which has its beginning difficult but not its end, I will endeavor to teach you from what is quite obvious. And, if you please, let us first take in hand the arts. For these have their beginning full of toil, but the end gainful. “But,” say you, “no one applies himself to an art without some one to compel him; for,” you add, “so long as the boy is his own master, he will choose rather to take his ease at first, and in the end to endure the evil, how great soever, than to live hardly at the outset, and afterwards reap the fruit of those labors.” Well then, to make such a choice comes of a mind left to itself, (ὀρφανικῆς διανοίας) and of childish idleness: but the contrary choice, of sense and manliness. And so it is with us: were we not children in mind, we should not be like the child aforesaid, forsaken (ὀρφάνῳ) as he is and thoughtless, but like him that has a father. We must cast out then our own childish mind, and not find fault with the things themselves; and we must set a charioteer over our conscience, who will not allow us to indulge our appetite, but make us run and strive mightily. For what else but absurdity is it to inure our children with pains at first unto pursuits which have laborious beginnings, but their end good and pleasant; while we ourselves in spiritual things take just the contrary turn?

And yet even in those earthly things it is not quite plain that the end will be good and pleasant: since before now untimely death, or poverty, or false accusation, or reverse of fortune, or other such things, of which there are many, have caused men after their long toil to be deprived of all its fruits. What is more, those who have such pursuits, though they succeed, it is no great gain which they will reap. For with the present life all those things are dissolved. But here, not for such fruitless and perishable things is our race, neither have we fears about the end; but greater and more secure is our hope after our departure hence. What pardon then can there be, what excuse for those who will not strip themselves for the evils to be endured for virtue's sake?

And do they yet ask, “Wherefore is the way narrow?” Why, thou dost not deem it right that any fornicator or lewd or drunken (και τῶν μεθυόντων inserted from the King's ms.) person should enter into the courts of earthly kings; and do you claim for men to be let into heaven itself with licentiousness, and luxury, and drunkenness, and covetousness, and all manner of iniquity? And how can these things be pardonable?