Homilies on First Thessalonians

For other things also know how to pollute the soul, and no less. For that wickedness defiles the soul, hear the prophet, saying, “O Jerusalem, wash your heart from wickedness.” And again, “Wash you, make you clean, put away the wickednesses from your souls.” He did not say “fornications,” so that not only fornication, but other things also defile the soul.

“To establish your hearts,” he says, “unblamable in holiness before our God and Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints.” Therefore Christ will then be a Judge, but not before Him (only), but also before the Father we shall stand to be judged. Or does he mean this, to be unblamable before God, as he always says, “in the sight of God,” for this is sincere virtue— not in the sight of men?

It is love then that makes them unblamable. For it does make men really unblamable. And once when I was discoursing of this to a certain one, and saying, that love makes men unblamable, and that love to our neighbor does not suffer any entrance of transgression, and in my discourse going over, and pursuing all the rest— some one of my acquaintance interposing himself said, What then of fornication, is it not possible both to love, and to commit fornication? And it is indeed from love that this springs. Covetousness indeed, and adultery, and envy, and hostile designs, and everything of this sort can, from love of one's neighbor, be stopped; but how fornication? He said. I therefore told him, that even this can love stop. For if a man should love a woman that commits fornication, he will endeavor both to draw her off from other men, and not himself also to add to her sin. So that to commit fornication with a woman is the part of one exceedingly hating her with whom he commits the fornication, but one who truly loved her would withdraw her from that abominable practice. And there is not, there is not any sin, which the power of love, like fire, cannot consume. For it is easier for a vile faggot to resist a great pile of fire, than for the nature of sin to resist the power of love.

This then let us plant in our own souls, that we may stand with all the Saints. For they all pleased God by their love to their neighbor. Whence was Abel slain, and did not slay? From his vehement love to his brother, he could not even admit such a thought. Whence was the destructive pest of envy received by Cain? For I will no longer call him the brother of Abel! Because the foundations of love had not been firmly fixed in him. Whence did the sons of Noah obtain a good report? Was it not because they vehemently loved their father, and did not endure to see his exposure? And whence was the other cursed? Was it not from not loving him? And whence did Abraham obtain a good report? Was it not from love in doing what he did concerning his nephew? What he did as to his supplication for the Sodomites? For strongly, strongly, were the Saints affected with love and with sympathy.

For consider, I pray; Paul, he that was bold in the face of fire, hard as adamant, firm and unshaken, on every side compact, riveted in the fear of God, and inflexible; for, “who (said he) shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or anguish, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword”? he that was bold in the face of all these things, and of earth and sea, he that laughed to scorn the adamantine gates of death, whom nothing ever withstood—he, when he saw the tears of some whom he loved, was so broken and crushed—the adamantine man—that he did not even conceal his feelings, but said straightway, “What do ye, weeping and breaking my heart?” What do you say, tell me? Had a tear the power to crush that soul of adamant? Yea, he says, for I hold out against all things except love. This prevails over me, and subdues me. This is the mind of God. An abyss of water did not crush him, and a few tears crushed him. “What do ye, weeping and crushing my heart?” For great is the force of love. Do you not see him again weeping? Why do you weep? Tell me. “By the space of three years,” he says, “I ceased not to admonish every one night and day with tears.” From his great love he feared, lest some plague should be introduced among them. And again, “For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote unto you with many tears.”

And what did Joseph? Tell me, that firm one, who stood up against so great a tyranny, who appears so noble against so great a flame of love, who so out-battled and overcame the madness of his mistress. For what was there not then to charm him? A beautiful person, the pride of rank, the costliness of garments, the fragrance of perfumes, (for all these things know how to soften the soul,) words more soft than all the rest! For you know that she who loves, and so vehemently, nothing so humble but she will bring herself to say it, taking upon her the attitude of a supplicant. For so broken was this woman, though wearing gold, and being of royal dignity, that she threw herself at the knees perhaps of the captive boy, and perhaps even intreated him weeping and clasping his knees, and had recourse to this not once, and a second time, but oftentimes. Then he might see her eye shining most brilliantly. For it is probable that she not simply but with excessive nicety would set off her beauty; as wishing by many nets to catch the lamb of Christ. Add here I pray also many magic charms. Yet nevertheless this inflexible, this firm man, of rocky hardness, when he saw his brothers who had bartered him away, who had thrown him into a pit, who had sold him, who had even wished to murder him, who were the causes both of the prison and the honor, when he heard from them how they had worked upon their father, (for, we said, it says, that one was devoured by a wild beast, and) he was broken, softened, crushed, “And he wept,” it says, and not being able to bear his feelings, he went in, and composed himself, that is, wiped away his tears.

What is this? Do you weep, O Joseph? And yet the present circumstances are deserving not of tears, but of anger, and wrath, and indignation, and great revenge and retribution. You have your enemies in your hands, those fratricides; you can satiate your wrath. And yet neither would this be injustice. For thou dost not yourself begin the unjust acts, but defendest yourself against those who have done the wrong. For look not to your dignity. This was not of their contrivance, but of God, who shed His favor upon you. Why do you weep? But he would have said, far be it that I, who in all things have obtained a good report, should by this remembrance of wrongs overturn them all. It is truly a season for tears. I am not more brutish than beasts. They pour out a libation to nature, whatever harm they suffer. I weep, he says, that they ever treated me thus.

This man let us also imitate. Let us mourn and weep for those who have injured us. Let us not be angry with them. For truly they are worthy of tears, for the punishment and condemnation to which they make themselves liable. I know, how you now weep, how you rejoice, both admiring Paul, and amazed at Joseph, and pronouncing them blessed. But if any one has an enemy, let him now take him into recollection, let him bring him to his mind, that while his heart is yet warm with the remembrance of the Saints, he may be enabled to dissolve the stubbornness of wrath, and to soften what is harsh and callous. I know, that after your departure hence, after that I have ceased speaking, if anything of warmth and fervor should remain, it will not be so great, as it now is while you are hearing me. If therefore any one, if any one has become cold, let him dissolve the frost. For the remembrance of injuries is truly frost and ice. But let us invoke the Sun of Righteousness, let us entreat Him to send His beams upon us, and there will no longer be thick ice, but water to drink.