Homily 15 — Matthew 5, verses 1 to 16

“And seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the mountain; and when he had sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying, ‘Blessed…’” [a]

See how free of ambition he was, how empty of boasting. He did not lead people around with him. When healing was needed, he had gone about everywhere himself, visiting both towns and countryside; but now, when the crowd has grown very large, he sits down in one place — and not in the middle of some city or marketplace, but on a mountain, in a lonely place. By this he teaches us to do nothing for show, and to separate ourselves from the uproar of ordinary life, above all when we are to seek wisdom and to talk over what needs to be done.

But when he had gone up the mountain and “had sat down, his disciples came to him.” Do you see their growth in virtue, how in a moment they became better men? The crowds were only spectators of the miracles, but from that hour these men longed to hear something great and lofty as well. And indeed it was this that set him to teaching and made him begin this discourse.

For he was not only healing people’s bodies; he was also setting their souls right. And again he would pass from caring for these to tending the others. In this way he varied the help he gave, and at the same time mingled with the teaching of his words the display of his glory in his works. Besides, he stopped the shameless mouths of the heretics: by caring for both parts of our being he showed that he himself is the Maker of the whole creation. That is why he poured out abundant care on each nature, now setting right the one, now the other.

And this is how he was occupied then. For it says that “he opened his mouth and taught them.” Why is the phrase “he opened his mouth” added? To tell you that he taught even by his silence, and not only when he spoke: at one time by “opening his mouth,” at another by uttering his voice through the works he did.

But when you hear that he taught them, do not think of him as talking with his disciples only, but rather with everyone through them. The crowd was what a crowd always is, and made up moreover of people who crawl along the ground. So he draws aside the choir of his disciples and directs his discourse to them. By speaking with them he saw to it that the rest too, who were still very far below the level of his sayings, would no longer find his lesson of self-denial a burden. Luke hinted at this when he said that he directed his words to them; and Matthew too made the same thing plain when he wrote, “His disciples came to him, and he taught them.” For in this way the others were sure to listen to him more eagerly than if he had addressed himself to everyone.

Where, then, does he begin? And what kind of foundations does he lay for us of his new way of life? [d]

Let us listen with close attention to what is said. For though it was spoken to them, it was written for the sake of everyone who came after as well. That is why, though he had his disciples in mind in his public preaching, he does not limit his sayings to them, but pronounces all his blessings without restriction. He did not say, “Blessed are you, if you become poor,” but “Blessed are the poor.” And I may add that even if he had spoken of them, the advice would still be for everyone. When he says, “Look, I am with you always, even to the end of the world,” he is talking not with them only but, through them, with the whole world. And when he pronounces blessed those who are persecuted and hunted and suffer every unbearable thing, he weaves his crown not for them only, but for all who reach the same excellence.

But to make this still plainer, and to let you know that you have a great stake in his sayings — and so has all humankind, if anyone chooses to pay attention — hear how he begins these wonderful words.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” What does “the poor in spirit” mean? The humble, those crushed in mind. For by “spirit” he means here the soul and its power of choice. Many are humble not willingly but because the pressure of circumstances forces them. He lets these pass, for there would be nothing to praise in that, and blesses first those who by choice humble themselves and make themselves small.

But why did he not say “the humble,” but rather “the poor”? Because this is more than that. He means here those who are struck with awe and tremble at God’s commandments — the very people God welcomed so warmly through his prophet Isaiah when he said, “To whom will I look, but to the one who is meek and quiet and trembles at my words?” For there are many kinds of humility: one person is humble in his own measure, another with every extreme of lowliness. It is this last lowliness of mind that the blessed prophet praises, when he pictures for us a temper not merely subdued but utterly broken: “The sacrifice for God is a crushed spirit; a crushed and humbled heart God will not despise.” And the three young men too offer this to God as a great sacrifice, saying, “Nevertheless, with a crushed soul and a spirit of lowliness may we be accepted.” This is what Christ too now blesses.

For the greatest evils, the ones that have laid waste the whole world, came in through pride. The devil was not such before, and it was in this way that he became the devil, as Paul plainly declared when he said, “So that he will not be puffed up with pride and fall into the condemnation of the devil.” The first man too, puffed up by the devil with these hopes, was made an example of and became mortal. Expecting to become a god, he lost even what he had; and God, reproaching him for this and mocking his folly, said, “Look, Adam has become like one of us.” And each of those who came after him wrecked himself in ungodliness in the same way, imagining some equality with God. [g]

Since, I say, this was the stronghold of our evils, the root and fountain of all wickedness, he prepared a remedy suited to the disease and laid down this law first, as a strong and safe foundation. With this fixed as a base, the builder lays all the rest on it in security. But if this is taken away, then though a person reach to the heavens in his way of life, it is all easily undermined and comes to a bitter end. Though fasting, prayer, almsgiving, self-control, or any other good thing whatever be gathered together in you, without humility all of it falls away and perishes.

This is exactly what happened with the Pharisee. Even after he had reached the very summit, he “went down” having lost everything, because he did not have the mother of the virtues. For as pride is the fountain of all wickedness, so humility is the beginning of all self-mastery. That is why he begins with this, pulling boasting up by the very root out of his hearers’ souls.

Someone may ask: “And what does this have to do with his disciples, who were humble on every count? They truly had nothing to be proud of: they were fishermen, poor, of no family, and unlettered.”

Even if these things did not concern his disciples, they certainly concerned those who were present then, and those who would later receive the disciples, so that they would not despise them on this account. But it would be truer to say that they concerned his disciples too. Even if not then, they were sure to need this help later on, after their signs and wonders, their honor from the world, and their confidence before God. For neither wealth nor power nor royalty itself had so much power to lift people up as the things these men possessed in full. Besides, it was natural that even before the signs they might be lifted up — at that very moment, when they saw the crowd and all that audience surrounding their Master. They might feel some human weakness. That is why he checks their pride at once.

And he does not bring in what he says in the form of advice or commands, but in the form of a blessing, so making his word less burdensome and opening the course of his training to everyone. For he did not say, “This person or that,” but, “Those who do this are blessed, all of them.” So even if you are a slave, a beggar, poor, a foreigner, uneducated, nothing stands in the way of your being blessed, if you strive after this virtue.

Having begun, then, as you see, where the need was greatest, he goes on to another command, one that seems opposed to the judgment of the whole world. Everyone thinks that those who are merry are to be envied, and that those in dejection, poverty, and mourning are wretched; but he calls these blessed rather than those, saying, “Blessed are those who mourn.” [i]

And yet everyone calls them miserable. That is exactly why he worked the miracles beforehand: so that in laws like these he would be believed.

And here again he did not mean simply all who mourn, but all who mourn for sins. The other kind of mourning, over anything belonging to this life, is forbidden, and forbidden earnestly. Paul too declared this plainly when he said, “The sorrow of the world produces death, but godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted.” These, then, whose sorrow is of that kind, are the ones he himself calls blessed too. And he did not mean simply those who are sorrowful, but those who are sorrowful intensely. That is why he did not say “those who are sorrowful,” but “those who mourn.”

For this command too is fitted to teach us complete self-control. Think of those who grieve for children, or a wife, or any other relative who has left them. During that time of sorrow they have no fondness for gain or pleasure; they do not aim at glory, are not provoked by insults, are not taken captive by envy or beset by any other passion, but their grief alone takes complete possession of them. If that is so, those who mourn for their own sins as they ought to mourn will show a self-denial much greater than this.

Next, what is the reward for these? “For they will be comforted,” he says.

Where will they be comforted? Tell me. Both here and there. Since what he commanded was extremely burdensome and galling, he promised to give the very thing that most of all made it light. So if you want to be comforted, mourn — and do not think this a riddle. When God comforts, though sorrows come upon you by the thousands like snowflakes, you will rise above them all.

Truly, as the returns God gives are always far greater than our labors, so he has done here. He declares those who mourn blessed, not in proportion to the worth of what they do, but in proportion to his own love for humankind. For those who mourn, mourn for wrongdoing, and for such people it is enough to enjoy forgiveness and to have something to say in their own defense. But because he is full of love for humankind, he does not limit his reward to removing our punishments or setting us free from our sins; he even makes them blessed, and gives them abundant comfort.

But he bids us mourn not only for our own wrongdoing but for other people’s too. Such was the temper of the saints’ souls: of Moses, of Paul, of David. Yes, all of these many times mourned for evils that were not their own.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” Tell me, what kind of earth? Some say a figurative earth, but it is not this, for nowhere in Scripture do we find mention of an earth that is merely figurative. Then what can the saying mean? He is holding out a prize for the senses, just as Paul also does when, after saying, “Honor your father and your mother,” he added, “For so you will live long on the earth.” And he himself said to the thief, again, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” [j]

So he does not urge us on with the blessings to come alone, but with present ones too, for the sake of the coarsest of his hearers, those who look for these others before the future ones.

So, for example, further on he also said, “Come to terms with your opponent.” Then he sets the reward for such self-mastery, saying, “In case the opponent hands you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer.” Do you see what he used to alarm us? Things of the senses, what happens before our eyes. And again: “Whoever says to his brother, ‘Raca,’ will be liable to the council.”

Paul too sets out rewards for the senses at great length, and uses present things in his appeals — as when he is speaking about virginity. There he says nothing about heaven for the time being, but urges it by present things: “Because of the present distress,” and “But I spare you,” and “I want you to be free from anxieties.”

In the same way, then, Christ too has mingled what the senses know with what is spiritual. The meek man is thought to lose everything he has, so he promises the opposite, saying, “No, this is the one who keeps his goods in safety — the one who is not rash or boastful. The other kind of man will often lose his inheritance and his very life.”

Besides, since in the Old Testament the prophet used to say continually, “The meek will inherit the earth,” he weaves into his discourse the words they were used to, so as not to speak a strange language everywhere.

And he says this not to limit the rewards to present things, but to join the other kind of gifts with these. For neither when he speaks of anything spiritual does he shut out what belongs to the present life, nor again when he promises things in this life does he confine his promise to that kind. For he says, “Seek the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” And again: “Whoever has left houses or brothers will receive a hundredfold in this world, and in the world to come will inherit eternal life.”

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” What kind of righteousness? He means either the whole of virtue, or the particular virtue that is the opposite of greed. For since he is about to give a command about mercy, to show how we must show mercy — not, for instance, out of plunder or greed — he blesses those who lay hold of righteousness. [n]

And see how forcefully he puts it. He did not say, “Blessed are those who hold fast to righteousness,” but, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” so that we would pursue it not in any half-hearted way but with all our desire. For this is the most characteristic mark of greed: we are not so much in love with food and drink as with gaining, and with surrounding ourselves with more and more. So he told us to turn this desire to a new object, freedom from greed.

Then he sets the prize, again from things of the senses, saying, “for they will be filled.” Because it is thought that the rich are usually made rich by greed, he says, “No, it is just the opposite: it is righteousness that does this. So as long as you act rightly, do not fear poverty or tremble at hunger. It is the extortioners who lose everything, just as the one who loves righteousness certainly keeps the goods of everyone in safety.” But if those who do not covet other people’s goods enjoy such great abundance, much more those who give up their own.

“Blessed are the merciful.”

Here he seems to me to be speaking not only of those who show mercy by giving money, but also of those who are merciful in what they do. For the ways of showing mercy are many, and this command is broad. What, then, is its reward?

“For they will obtain mercy.”

It seems to be a kind of equal repayment, but it is a far greater thing than the act of kindness. They show mercy as human beings, and they obtain mercy from the God of all; and human mercy and God’s mercy are not the same thing. As wide as the gap between wickedness and goodness, so far is the one removed from the other.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

Look, again the reward is spiritual. Here he calls “pure” either those who have attained all virtue and are not aware of any evil in themselves, or those who live in chastity. For there is nothing we need so much in order to see God as this last virtue. That is why Paul also said, “Pursue peace with everyone, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord.” He is speaking here of such sight as it is possible for a human being to have.

For there are many who show mercy, who commit no robbery and are not greedy, and who are yet guilty of sexual immorality and impurity. So, to show that the former alone is not enough, he has added this — much as Paul, writing to the Corinthians, bore witness that the Macedonians were rich not only in giving alms but in every other virtue as well. Having spoken of the generous spirit they had shown with their goods, he says, “They gave their own selves too, to the Lord and to us.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers.” [p]

Here he not only does away entirely with our own strife and hatred toward one another, but asks something more besides: that we reconcile others who are at odds.

And again the reward he attaches is spiritual. What kind is it, then?

“For they will be called children of God.”

Yes, for this was the work of the only Son: to unite what was divided and to reconcile what was estranged.

Then, so that you would not imagine peace to be a blessing in every case, he added, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake” — that is, for virtue’s sake, for help given to others, and for godliness. For it is always his habit to call the whole practical wisdom of the soul by the name “righteousness.”

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and say every kind of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice and be very glad.”

It is as if he said, “Though they call you sorcerers, deceivers, public pests, or anything else, you are blessed.” That is what he is saying. What could be newer than these commands? The very things everyone else avoids, he declares desirable — I mean being poor, mourning, persecution, a bad name. Yet he both said it and convinced not two, or ten, or twenty, or a hundred, or a thousand, but the whole world. And hearing things so hard and galling, so contrary to people’s usual ways, the crowds “were astonished.” So great was the power of the one who spoke.

But so that you would not think that simply being spoken ill of makes people blessed, he has set two limits: when it is for his sake, and when what is said is false. Without these, the one who is spoken ill of is so far from blessed that he is miserable.

Then look at the prize again: “Because your reward is great in heaven.” And you, though you do not hear of a kingdom given in each one of the blessings, do not lose heart. Though he gives the rewards different names, he brings them all into his kingdom. So when he says, “those who mourn will be comforted,” and “those who show mercy will obtain mercy,” and “the pure in heart will see God,” and that the peacemakers “will be called children of God,” he is sketching nothing else in all these sayings but the kingdom. Those who enjoy these things will surely reach that. So do not think this reward is for the poor in spirit only; it is also for those who hunger for righteousness, for the meek, and for all the rest without exception.

For this is why he has set his blessing on them all: so that you would not look for anything the senses know. The one who is crowned with things that come to an end with this present life, and hurry past quicker than a shadow, cannot be blessed.

But when he had said, “your reward is great,” he added another comfort as well, saying, “For so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” [q]

Since the first thing, the promise of the kingdom, was still to come and all a matter of waiting, he gives them comfort from this world: their fellowship with those who were ill-treated before them.

“Do not think,” he says, “that you suffer these things because of something inconsistent in what you say and command, or that you are to be persecuted by them as teachers of evil doctrines. The plots and dangers come not from any wickedness in your words but from the malice of those who hear you. So the blame lies not with you who suffer the wrong, but with those who do it. And all past time bears witness to the truth of this. Against the prophets they could not even bring a charge of breaking the law or of ungodly opinions, when they stoned some, drove others away, and surrounded others with countless afflictions. So do not let this trouble you, for it is in the very same spirit that they do all that is done now.” Do you see how he raised their spirits by placing them close to the company of Moses and Elijah?

So too Paul, writing to the Thessalonians, says, “For you became imitators of the churches of God that are in Judea, for you too have suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews, who killed both the Lord Jesus and their own prophets, and have driven us out; and they do not please God, and are opposed to all people.” And Christ has established this same point here too.

And whereas in the other beatitudes he said, “Blessed are the poor” and “the merciful,” here he has not put it in general terms, but addresses his words to them directly, saying, “Blessed are you when they revile you and persecute you and say every evil word.” He shows that this is a special privilege of theirs, and that teachers above all others have this as their own.

At the same time he here also quietly points to his own dignity, and to his equality in honor with the one who begot him. For he says, “As they suffered these things for the Father’s sake, so you too will suffer them for mine.” And when he says, “the prophets who were before you,” he implies that they too had by now become prophets.

Next, to show that this above all benefits them and makes them glorious, he did not say, “They will slander and persecute you, but I will prevent it.” He means their safety to lie not in escaping a bad name, but in bearing it nobly and refuting the slanderers by their actions. This is a much greater thing than the other, just as being struck and not hurt is much greater than escaping the blow.

Here he says, “Your reward is great in heaven.” But Luke reports him as saying this more forcefully, and with fuller comfort. For, as you know, he not only calls blessed those who are spoken ill of for God’s sake, but also declares wretched those whom everyone speaks well of. “Woe to you,” he says, “when all people speak well of you.” And yet the apostles were well spoken of — but not by everyone. That is why he did not say, “Woe to you when people speak well of you,” but “when all people” do so. For it is not even possible that those who live a life of virtue should be well spoken of by everyone. [s]

And again he says, “When they cast out your name as evil, rejoice and leap for joy.” For he sets the reward high not only for the dangers they went through, but for the slander too. That is why he did not say, “When they persecute you and kill you,” but, “When they revile you and say all kinds of evil.” For there is no doubt that people’s evil talk bites more sharply than their deeds themselves. In our dangers there are many things that lighten the struggle: being cheered on by everyone, having many to applaud us, to crown us, to proclaim our praise. But in disgrace even this comfort is taken away, because we seem not to have achieved anything great; and this galls the contestant more than all his dangers. In fact, many have gone so far as to hang themselves because they could not bear an evil name.

And why are you surprised at the others? That traitor, the shameless and accursed one, who had stopped blushing at anything whatever — it was this, more than anything, that drove him to rush to the noose. And Job, again, hard as diamond as he was and firmer than a rock: when he had been robbed of all his possessions and was suffering those incurable ills, when he had suddenly become childless, when he saw his body pouring out worms like a spring and his wife attacking him, he threw all of it off with ease. But when he saw his friends reproaching him and trampling on him, and thinking badly of him, and saying that he was suffering these things for some sins and paying the penalty for wickedness — then there was turmoil, then there was upheaval, even in that great and noble-hearted man. And David too, passing over everything he had suffered, asked God for recompense for the slander alone. “Let him curse,” he says, “for the Lord has told him to, so that the Lord may look on my humiliation and repay me for this cursing of his today.”

Paul too proclaims the triumph not only of those who face danger or are stripped of their goods, but of these as well. He says: “Remember the former days, when, after you were enlightened, you endured a great struggle with sufferings, partly by being made a public spectacle through insults and afflictions.” This, then, is why Christ has set the reward so high as well.

After this, so that no one could say, “Here you give no justice and do not stop people’s mouths — and do you assign a reward there?” he has set the prophets before us, to show that in their case too God did not give redress. And if, when the rewards were close at hand, he encouraged them with things to come, how much more now, when this hope has become clearer and self-denial has increased.

Notice too after how many commandments he has put this one. He certainly did not do it without reason, but to show that no one can go out to these contests unprepared and unarmed with all those other virtues. That is why, you see, he has used each precept to make way for the next, and so has woven a kind of golden chain for us. First, the one who is “humble” will surely also “mourn” for his own sins. The one who mourns this way will be “meek,” “righteous” and “merciful.” The one who is “merciful,” “righteous” and “crushed in heart” will of course be “pure in heart” as well, and such a person will be “a peacemaker” too. And the one who has reached all these will also be armed against dangers, and will not be troubled when people speak evil of him and he is enduring countless severe trials.

Now, after giving them the exhortation they needed, he refreshes them again with praise. The commands were lofty, far beyond those in the Old Testament; and so that they would not be alarmed and confused and say, “How will we be able to do these things?” listen to what he says: “You are the salt of the earth.” [y]

He means that it is absolutely necessary for him to lay all this on them. For, he says, “it is not for your own life alone, but for the whole world, that you will have to give account. I am not sending you to two cities, or to ten or twenty, or to a single nation, as I sent the prophets, but to land and sea and the whole world — and a world in a bad state.”

For by saying, “You are the salt of the earth,” he showed that all human nature had “lost its taste” and been corrupted by our sins. That, you see, is why he requires of them the virtues most necessary and useful for the care of people at large. First, the one who is meek and yielding and merciful and righteous does not shut up his good deeds within himself alone, but also sees to it that these good springs run over for the benefit of others. And again, the one who is pure in heart, a peacemaker, and persecuted for the truth’s sake also orders his way of life for the common good. “So do not think,” he says, “that you are being drawn into ordinary contests, or that it is for some small matters that you will have to give account.” “You are the salt of the earth.”

What then? Did they restore what had already gone bad? Not at all. It is not possible to do any good to something already rotten by sprinkling salt on it. So this they did not do. Rather, what had already been restored and entrusted to their charge, and freed from that foul smell — this they then salted, keeping and preserving it in the freshness it had received from the Lord. For setting people free from the rot of their sins was the good work of Christ; but that they never went back to it again was the object of these men’s care and toil.

Do you see how, little by little, he shows that they are greater even than the prophets? He says they are teachers not of Palestine but of the whole world — and not simply teachers, but formidable ones too. For this is the marvel: not by flattering or soothing people, but by bracing them sharply, as salt does, they became dear to everyone.

“Now do not be surprised,” he says, “if I leave all the others aside and speak to you, and draw you on into such great dangers. Consider over how many cities, tribes and nations I am going to send you to preside. That is why I want you not only to be sensible yourselves, but to make others sensible as well. People on whom the salvation of the rest depends need a great deal of understanding. They must be so rich in virtue that they can share its benefit with others too. For if you do not become people like this, you will not be enough even for yourselves.

“So do not lose patience, as though my sayings were too heavy. Others who have lost their taste can be restored through you; but if you come to that, you will destroy others along with yourselves. So the greater the matters that have been put into your hands, the greater the care you need.” That is why he says, “But if the salt has lost its taste, what will it be salted with? From then on it is good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by people.”

Other people, however often they fall, may perhaps obtain pardon; but the teacher, if this happens to him, is stripped of every excuse and will suffer the most extreme punishment. So, in case the words “when they revile you and persecute you and say all kinds of evil against you” should make them too timid to go out, he tells them, “Unless you are prepared to fight against all this, you have been chosen for nothing.” For it is not evil report that you should fear, but proving to be partners in hypocrisy. For then “you will lose your taste and be trampled underfoot.” But if you keep bracing people sharply and are then spoken ill of, rejoice. This is the very use of salt: to sting what is corrupt and make it smart. And so their blame follows as a matter of course, doing you no harm at all, but rather bearing witness to your firmness. But if out of fear of it you give up the earnestness that befits you, you will suffer much more grievously: you will be both spoken ill of and despised by everyone. For that is what “trampled underfoot” means.

After this he leads them on to another image, a higher one: “You are the light of the world.” [z]

“Of the world” again — not of one nation, or of twenty cities, but of the whole inhabited earth. And a “light” for the mind, far better than this sunlight, just as they were also a spiritual salt. First they are salt, and now light, to teach you how great the gain of these strict precepts is, and the profit of that serious discipline: how it binds and does not let one grow slack, and how it gives clear sight, leading people on to virtue.

“A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under the basket.”

Again, by these words he trains them to strictness of life, teaching them to be earnest in their efforts, since they are set before the eyes of all and are contending in the middle of the world’s amphitheater. “Do not look at the fact,” he says, “that we are sitting here now, that we are in a small part of one corner. You will be as plain for everyone to see as a city set on the ridge of a hill, as a lamp on the lampstand in a house, giving light.”

Where now are those who persist in disbelieving Christ’s power? Let them hear these things and worship his might, amazed at the power of the prophecy. Consider how great the things were that he promised to men who were not known even in their own country: that land and sea would know them, and that their fame would reach the ends of the inhabited world — or rather, not their fame, but the working of the good they did. For it was not fame alone, carrying them everywhere, that made them conspicuous, but also the actual proof of their works. As though they had wings, they overran the whole earth with more force than the sunlight, sowing the light of godliness.

But here he seems to me also to be training them in boldness of speech. For to say, “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden,” is to speak as one declaring his own power. Just as that city cannot possibly be hidden, so it was impossible that what they preached should sink into silence and obscurity. He had spoken of persecutions and slanders, of plots and wars; so, for fear they might think these would be able to stop their mouths, he encourages them by saying that far from being hidden, it would outshine the whole world, and that for this very reason they would be illustrious and renowned.

By this, then, he declares his own power. In what follows he requires the boldness of speech that was due from them, saying: “Nor do people light a lamp and put it under the basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. In the same way let your light shine before people, so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

“I have lit the light, it is true,” he says, “but let its continuing to burn come from your diligence — not for your own sakes alone, but also for the sake of those who are to benefit from these rays and be guided to the truth. The slanders will certainly not be able to dim your brightness, as long as you are still living a strict life, as befits those who are to convert the whole world. So show a life worthy of his grace, so that just as it is preached everywhere, this light may go with it everywhere.”

Next he sets before them another kind of gain besides the salvation of humankind, enough to make them strive hard and to lead them on to all diligence. “If you live rightly,” he says, “you will not only set the world right, but you will also give occasion for God to be glorified; just as, if you do the opposite, you will both destroy people and cause God’s name to be blasphemed.”

But someone may ask: “And how will God be glorified through us, if people are going to speak evil of us?” No — not everyone will. And even those who do it out of envy will admire and approve of you in their consciences, just as those who outwardly flatter people living in wickedness condemn them in their minds.

“What then? Are you commanding us to live for display and empty glory?” “Far from it. I am not saying this. I did not say, ‘Take pains to bring your own good deeds forward,’ nor did I say, ‘Show them off,’ but, ‘Let your light shine.’ That is: let your virtue be great, the fire abundant, the light beyond words. For when virtue is so great, it cannot lie hidden, even if the one who pursues it throws ten thousand coverings over it. Set before them a blameless life, and let them have no true ground for speaking evil. Then, though there are thousands of slanderers, no one will be able to cast any shadow over you.”

And he did well to say “your light.” For nothing makes a person so illustrious, however much he wants to stay hidden, as the display of virtue. He shines as though clothed with the sunlight itself — no, brighter than it — not spending his rays on the earth, but rising beyond heaven itself.

So he comforts them more abundantly still. “What if the slander does pain you?” he says. “You will still have many honoring God because of you. And your recompense is gathering both ways: because God is glorified through you, and because you are defamed for God’s sake.”

So that we would not deliberately seek to be reproached when we hear that there is a reward for it, first he did not state that principle simply, but with two limits: when what is said is false, and when it is for God’s sake. Next he shows that not only that, but good report too has its great profit, since its glory passes on to God. And he holds out to them those kind hopes: “The slander of the wicked cannot keep all others in the dark so that they do not see your light. Only when you have ‘lost your taste’ will they trample you underfoot — not when you are falsely accused while doing right. No, then there will be many who admire, not you alone, but your Father too for your sake.”

And he did not say “God,” but “your Father,” already sowing in advance the seeds of that noble birth that was about to be given them. He shows his equality in honor as well. Just as he said above, “Do not grieve when you are spoken ill of, for it is enough for you that it is for my sake you are spoken of this way,” so here he mentions the Father — everywhere making his equality plain.

Since, then, we know the gain that comes from this earnestness and the danger of laziness — for if our Lord is blasphemed because of us, that would be far worse than our own destruction — let us “give no offense, either to the Jews or to the Gentiles or to the church of God.” And while the life we set before them is brighter than the sun, if anyone still wants to speak evil of us, let us not grieve at being defamed, but only if we are defamed justly. [ac]

For on the one hand, if we live in wickedness, even though no one speaks ill of us, we will be the most wretched of all people. On the other, if we devote ourselves to virtue, even though the whole world speaks evil of us, at that very moment we will be more to be envied than anyone. And we will draw after us all who choose to be saved, for it is not the slander of the wicked but our good life that will hold their attention. Indeed, no trumpet is as clear as the proof our actions give; the light itself is not as clear as a pure life, even if those who slander us are beyond counting.

I mean, if all the qualities mentioned above are ours — if we are meek and humble and merciful, if we are pure and peacemakers, if when we hear reproach we do not revile in return but rejoice instead — then we will attract all who watch us no less than the miracles do. And everyone will be well disposed toward us, even if one is a wild beast, a demon, or anything you like.

Or if there are even some who speak evil of you, do not be troubled by it at all, and do not pay attention because they revile you in public. Look into their conscience instead, and you will see them applauding you and admiring you and counting up ten thousand praises.

See, for instance, how Nebuchadnezzar praises the young men in the furnace — and yet he was certainly their adversary and enemy. But when he saw them standing firm so nobly, he proclaims their victory and crowns them, and for nothing else than that they disobeyed him and listened to the law of God. For the devil, when he sees that he is achieving nothing, leaves from then on, afraid he may become the cause of our winning more crowns. And once he has gone, even someone abominable and depraved will recognize virtue, now that that mist has been lifted. Or if people still argue perversely, you will have the greater praise and admiration from God.

Do not grieve now, I beg you, and do not lose heart, since the apostles themselves were to some “an aroma of death” and to others “an aroma of life.” And if there is nothing in you they can lay hold of, you are free of all their charges — or rather, you have become all the more blessed. So shine out in your life, and take no account of those who speak evil of you. For it cannot be, it cannot be, that someone who cares about virtue should not have many enemies. But this is nothing to the virtuous person; by such means his brightness will only grow the more.

Let us, then, keep these things in mind and look to one thing only: how to order our own lives strictly. For in this way we will also guide those who now sit in darkness to the life that is there. Such is the power of that light: it not only shines here, but also leads those who follow it there. For when people see us despising everything present and preparing ourselves for what is to come, our actions will persuade them sooner than any speech. Who is so senseless that, seeing someone who only a day or two ago was living in luxury and wealth now stripping himself of everything, putting on wings, and armed to meet hunger and poverty and every hardship — dangers, blood, slaughter, and everything counted terrible — he will not draw from this sight a clear proof of the things to come?

But if we entangle ourselves in present things and plunge ourselves into them more and more, how will they ever be persuaded that we are hurrying on to another home?

And what excuse will we have after this, if the fear of God does not do as much for us as human glory did for the Greek philosophers? Some of them really did lay aside wealth and despise death, in order to make a show before people — which is also why their hopes came to nothing. What plea, then, will rescue us, when such great things are set before us, and so high a rule of self-denial has been opened to us, and yet we cannot even do as they did, but ruin both ourselves and others besides? For the harm is not so great when a pagan does wrong as when a Christian does the same. Of course not: their reputation is already lost, but ours, because of the grace of God, is revered and glorious even among the ungodly. That is why, when they most want to revile us and make their abuse worse, they add some taunt like “You Christian!” — a taunt they would not use if they did not secretly hold a high opinion of our teaching.

Have you not heard how many great precepts Christ laid down? When will you be able to fulfill even one of those commandments, while you leave everything aside and go about collecting interest, stitching one loan at interest onto another, setting business deals in motion, buying herds of slaves, acquiring silver dishes, purchasing houses, fields and goods without end? And I wish that were all! But when to these untimely pursuits you add injustice as well — moving boundary stones, seizing houses by force, making poverty worse, increasing hunger — when will you be able to set foot on these thresholds?

But sometimes you do show mercy to the poor. I know that as well as you do. But here again the damage is great, for you do it either out of pride or for empty glory, so that you get no profit even from your good deeds. What could be more wretched than this — to be shipwrecked in the very harbor? To keep this from happening, when you have done some good deed, do not look for thanks from me, so that you may have God as your debtor. For he says, “Lend to those from whom you do not expect to receive.” [ai]

You have your Debtor; why leave him and demand payment from me, a poor and wretched mortal? What? Is that Debtor annoyed when someone asks him for what he owes? What? Is he poor? Is he unwilling to pay? Do you not see his unspeakable treasures? Do you not see his generosity, too great to describe? Take hold of him, then, and make your demand; for he is pleased when someone demands a debt from him in this way. But if he sees someone else being asked to pay what he himself owes, he will feel insulted and will not repay you any more. More than that, he will rightly find fault with you, saying: “Why? What ingratitude have you caught me in? What poverty do you know of in me, that you hurry past me and turn to others? You lent to one, and you demand the debt from another?” For although a man received the gift, it was God who commanded you to give it; and he wants to be the debtor himself, in the first and proper sense, and the guarantor too, giving you ten thousand ways to demand the debt from him on every side. So do not let go of such ease and such abundance, and look to receive from me, who have nothing. Why, what is the point of displaying to me the mercy you showed the poor? What! Was it I who told you, “Give”? Was it from me you heard this, that you should demand it back from me? He himself has said, “Whoever has pity on the poor lends to God.” You have lent to God: charge it to his account.

“But he does not repay the whole now.” Well, this too he does for your good. For that is the kind of debtor he is: not like many, who are anxious simply to pay back what was lent. He manages and does everything with this in view, to invest safely as well what has been given to him. That is why, you see, he repays some of it here and sets some aside for you in the other world.

Since we know these things, then, let us make our mercy abundant, and let us give proof of great love for our fellow men, both with our money and with our actions. If we see someone being mistreated and beaten in the marketplace, and we can settle it by paying money, let us do it; or if we can separate them with words, let us not hang back. For even a word has its reward, and sighs still more. Blessed Job said this: “But I wept for every helpless one, and I sighed when I saw a man in distress.” Now if there is a reward for tears and sighs, think how great the recompense becomes when words are added too, and an anxious effort, and much else besides. Yes, for we too were enemies of God, and the only Son reconciled us, throwing himself between us, taking blows for us, and enduring death for us. [ak]

So let us likewise do all we can to rescue from countless evils those who are falling into them — and not as we do now. When we see people beating and tearing at one another, we tend to stand by, enjoying the disgrace of others and forming a devilish amphitheater around them. What could be more cruel than that? You see men insulting each other, tearing each other to pieces, ripping each other’s clothes, hitting each other in the face — and can you bear to stand by quietly?

What! Is it a bear that is fighting? A wild beast? A snake? It is a man, one who shares everything with you: a brother, a member of the same body. Do not look on; separate them. Take no pleasure in it; put the wrong right. Do not call others over to the shameful sight; rather, drive away and scatter those who have gathered. It is for shameless people and born slaves to take pleasure in such misfortunes — for the mere refuse of humanity, for senseless donkeys.

You see a man behaving shamefully, and do you not count the shame your own? Do you not step in, scatter the devil’s troop, and put an end to people’s miseries?

Someone says: “So that I can take blows myself? Is that your order too?” You will not have to suffer even that. But if you should, it would be a kind of martyrdom for you, since you would have suffered for God’s sake. And if you are slow to take blows, remember that your Lord was not slow to endure the cross for you.

For they are drunk, in the dark, with anger as their tyrant and commander, and they need someone who is sober to help them — both the one doing wrong and the one being wronged: the one so that he may be rescued from suffering harm, the other so that he may stop doing it. So come near and stretch out your hand, you who are sober, to the one who is drunk. For there is a drunkenness of anger too, and it is worse than the drunkenness of wine.

Do you not see sailors? When they see anyone being shipwrecked, they spread their sails and set out with all speed to rescue men of their own trade from the waves. Now if those who share a trade show so much care for one another, how much more ought those who share the same nature to do all these things! For in truth this too is a shipwreck, and a worse one than that. Under provocation a man either blasphemes, and so throws everything away; or, carried away by his anger, he swears a false oath and falls into hell that way; or he strikes a blow and commits murder, and so again suffers the very same shipwreck. So go and put a stop to the evil. Pull out those who are drowning, even if you have to go down into the very depths of the surge. Break up the devil’s theater, take each of them aside, and urge him to put out the flame and calm the waves.

But if the blaze grows bigger and the furnace fiercer, do not be frightened. You have many to help you and lend a hand, if only you make a beginning; and above all you surely have the God of peace with you. And if you are the first to turn the flames aside, many others will follow, and you yourself will receive the reward for the good they do.

Listen to the command Christ gave to the Jews, earthbound as they still were: “If you see your enemy’s pack animal falling down,” he says, “do not hurry past, but raise it up.” Surely you see that separating and reconciling men who are fighting is a much lighter thing than lifting a fallen animal. And if we ought to help raise our enemies’ donkey, much more ought we to help our friends’ souls — and most of all when the fall is worse. For these do not fall into mud, but into the fire of hell, because they cannot carry the load of their anger. And you, when you see your brother lying under the load, and the devil standing by and lighting the fire, run past, cruelly and without mercy — a thing not safe to do even where animals are concerned.

The Samaritan saw a wounded man, a stranger with no tie to him at all, and he stopped, set him on an animal, brought him to the inn, hired a physician, gave some money and promised more. But you see a man who has fallen, not among robbers, but among a band of demons, besieged by anger — and not in a wilderness, but in the middle of the public square — and you do not have to spend money, or hire an animal, or carry him a long way, but only to say a few words: are you slow to do it? Do you hold back and hurry past, cruelly and without mercy? And how do you expect ever to find God gracious to you when you call on him?

But let me speak also to you who disgrace yourselves in public — to the one who is acting with violence and doing wrong. Are you throwing punches? Tell me. Kicking, and biting? Have you become a wild boar, a wild donkey? And are you not ashamed? Do you not blush at being turned into a wild beast like this, and betraying your own nobility? Though you are poor, you are free; though you work with your hands, you are a Christian. In fact, for this very reason — because you are poor — you ought to keep the peace. Fighting belongs to the rich, not to the poor: to the rich, who have many reasons that drive them to war. But you, who do not have the pleasure of wealth, go about gathering to yourself the evils of wealth: hatreds, quarrels and fights. You take your brother by the throat and try to strangle him, and throw him down publicly in the sight of everyone. And do you not think that it is you who are disgraced instead, imitating the violent passions of the brutes — or rather, becoming even worse than they are? For they share all things in common; they herd together and go about together. But we have nothing in common; all is confusion: fights, quarrels, insults, hatreds and abuse. We have no reverence for heaven, to which all of us alike are called, nor for the earth, which he has left free for all of us alike, nor for our very nature. Anger and the love of money sweep it all away. [ao]

Have you not seen the man who owed the ten thousand talents? After he was forgiven that debt, he took his fellow servant by the throat over a hundred denarii — and what great evils he suffered, how he was handed over to an endless punishment! Have you not trembled at the example? Are you not afraid that you too may incur the same? For we also owe our Lord many great debts. Still he bears with us and is patient; he does not press us, as we press our fellow servants, nor choke us and take us by the throat. And yet, if he had chosen to demand from us even the smallest part of it, we would have perished long ago.

So, beloved, let us keep these things in mind, be humbled, and be grateful to those who owe us. For if we master ourselves, they become the occasion for us to obtain the most abundant pardon: giving a little, we will receive much. Why, then, demand payment by force, when it would be right for you, even if the other man wanted to pay, to let him off of your own accord, so that you may receive the whole from God? But as things are, you do everything — violent and quarrelsome — to make sure none of your own debts is forgiven you. While you think you are doing your neighbor harm, you are thrusting the sword into yourself, and so increasing your punishment in hell. Whereas if you show a little self-control here, you make your own reckoning easy. For this is why God wants us to take the lead in this kind of generosity: so that he may have occasion to repay us more than we gave.

So all who are in your debt, whether for money or for wrongs done to you, let them all go free, and ask God for the reward of such generosity of spirit. For as long as they remain in your debt, you cannot have God as your debtor. But if you let them go free, you will be able to hold your God to it, and ask him for the reward of such great self-restraint in generous measure. Suppose a man had come up and, seeing you seizing your debtor, had called on you to let him go free and to transfer your account with him to himself. After such a release he would not choose to be unfair, since he had taken the whole claim on himself. How, then, will God fail to repay us many times over — yes, ten thousand times over — when, for the sake of his command, we make no complaint, great or small, against anyone who owes us, but let them go clear of every liability? So let us not think of the passing pleasure that springs up in us when we exact payment from our debtors, but rather of the loss — how great it is! — that we will suffer for it later, doing ourselves grievous harm in the things that are eternal.

Let us, then, rise above all this, and forgive those who must give account to us both their debts and their offenses, so that we may find our own accounts treated kindly; so that what we could not reach by all the rest of virtue, we may obtain by bearing no malice toward our neighbors; and so that we may enjoy the eternal blessings, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.