Homilies on the Gospel of John

² Let us be ashamed then, beloved, let us be ashamed, and groan over our excessive sloth. “Thirty and eight years” had that man been waiting without obtaining what he desired, and withdrew not. And he had failed not through any carelessness of his own, but through being oppressed and suffering violence from others, and not even thus did he grow dull; while we if we have persisted for ten days to pray for anything and have not obtained it, are too slothful afterwards to employ the same zeal.

And on men we wait for so long a time, warring and enduring hardships and performing servile ministrations, and often at last failing in our expectation, but on our Master, from whom we are sure to obtain a recompense greater than our labors, (for, says the Apostle, “Hope makes not ashamed”) on Him we endure not to wait with becoming diligence. What chastisement does this deserve! For even though we could receive nothing from Him, ought we not to deem the very conversing with Him continually the cause of ten thousand blessings?

“But continual prayer is a laborious thing.” And what that belongs to virtue is not laborious? “In truth,” says some one, “this very point is full of great difficulty, that pleasure is annexed to vice, and labor to virtue.” And many, I think, make this a question. What then can be the reason? God gave us at the beginning a life free from care and exempt from labor. We used not the gift aright, but were perverted by doing nothing, and were banished from Paradise. On which account He made our life for the future one of toil, assigning as it were His reasons for this to mankind, and saying, “I allowed you at the beginning to lead a life of enjoyment, but you were rendered worse by liberty, wherefore I commanded that henceforth labor and sweat be laid upon you.” And when even this labor did not restrain us, He next gave us a law containing many commandments, imposing it on us like bits and curbs placed upon an unruly horse to restrain his prancings, just as horse breakers do.

This is why life is laborious, because not to labor is wont to be our ruin. For our nature cannot bear to be doing nothing, but easily turns aside to wickedness. Let us suppose that the man who is temperate, and he who rightly performs the other virtues, has no need of labor, but that they do all things in their sleep, still how should we have employed our ease? Would it not have been for pride and boastfulness? “But wherefore,” says some one, “has great pleasure been attached to vice, great labor and toil to virtue?”

Why, what thanks would you have had, and for what would you have received a reward, if the matter had not been one of difficulty? Even now I can show you many who naturally hate intercourse with women, and avoid conversation with them as impure; shall we then call these chaste, shall we crown these, tell me, and proclaim them victors? By no means. Chastity is self-restraint, and the mastering pleasures which fight, just as in war the trophies are most honorable when the contest is violent, not when no one raises a hand against us.

Many are by their very nature passionless; shall we call these good tempered? Not at all. And so the Lord after naming three manners of the eunuch state, leaves two of them uncrowned, and admits one into the kingdom of heaven. “But what need,” says one, “was there of wickedness?” I say this too. “What is it then which made wickedness to be?” What but our willful negligence? “But,” says one, “there ought to be only good men.” Well, what is proper to the good man? Is it to watch and be sober, or to sleep and snore?

“And why,” says one, “seemed it not good that a man should act rightly without laboring?” You speak words which become the cattle or gluttons, or who make their belly their god. For to prove that these are the words of folly, answer me this. Suppose there were a king and a general, and while the king was asleep or drunk, the general should endure hardship and erect a trophy, whose would you count the victory to be? Who would enjoy the pleasure of what was done? Do you see that the soul is more especially disposed towards those things for which she has labored?

And therefore God has joined labors to virtue, wishing to make us attached to her. For this cause we admire virtue, even although we act not rightly ourselves, while we condemn vice even though it be very pleasant. And if you say, “Why do we not admire those who are good by nature more than those who are so by choice?” we reply, Because it is just to prefer him that labors to him that labors not. For why is it that we labor? It is because thou did not bear with moderation the not laboring.

Nay more, if one enquire exactly, in other ways also sloth is wont to undo us, and to cause us much trouble. Let us, if you will, shut a man up, only feeding and pampering him, not allowing him to walk nor conducting him forth to work, but let him enjoy table and bed, and be in luxury continually; what could be more wretched than such a life? “But,” says one, “to work is one thing, to labor is another.” Yea, but it was in man's power then to work without labor. “And is this,” says he, “possible?”

Yea, it is possible; God even desired it, but you endured it not. Therefore He placed you to work in the garden, marking out employment, but joining with it no labor. For had man labored at the beginning, God would not afterwards have put labor by way of punishment. For it is possible to work and not to be wearied, as do the angels. To prove that they work, hear what David says; “You that excel in strength, you that do His word.” Want of strength causes much labor now, but then it was not so.

For “he that has entered into His rest, has ceased,” says one, “from his works, as God from His”: not meaning here idleness, but the ceasing from labor. For God works even now, as Christ says, “My Father works hitherto, and I work.” Wherefore I exhort you that, laying aside all carelessness, you be zealous for virtue. For the pleasure of wickedness is short, but the pain lasting; of virtue, on the contrary, the joy grows not old, the labor is but for a season. Virtue even before the crowns are distributed animates her workman, and feeds him with hopes; vice even before the time of vengeance punishes him who works for her, wringing and terrifying his conscience, and making it apt to imagine all (evils).

Are not these things worse than any labors, than any toils? And if these things were not so, if there were pleasure, what could be more worthless than that pleasure? For as soon as it appears it flies away, withering and escaping before it has been grasped, whether you speak of the pleasure of beauty, or that of luxury, or that of wealth, for they cease not daily to decay. But when there is besides (for this pleasure) punishment and vengeance, what can be more miserable than those who go after it? Knowing then this, let us endure all for virtue, so shall we enjoy true pleasure, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father and the Holy Ghost be glory, now and ever, and world without end. Amen.