Homily 1 — Acts 1, verses 1 to 5

“I made the former account, Theophilus, about all that Jesus began both to do and to teach, until the day on which, having given commands to the apostles whom he had chosen, through the Holy Spirit, he was taken up.” [a]

To many people this book is so little known, both the book and its author, that they are not even aware that such a book exists. That is the main reason I have taken this narrative as my subject: to draw to it those who do not know it, and not to let a treasure like this stay hidden out of sight. For it may do us as much good as the Gospels themselves, so full is it of Christian wisdom and sound teaching, especially in what it says about the Holy Spirit. So let us not hurry past it, but examine it closely.

Here, for instance, we may see the predictions Christ makes in the Gospels actually coming to pass. We may notice in the very events the bright evidence of the truth shining out of them, and the mighty change taking place in the disciples now that the Spirit has come upon them. They heard Christ say, “Whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and he will do greater works than these” (John 14, verse 12). Again, he foretold to the disciples that they would be brought before rulers and kings, that they would be flogged in the synagogues, and that they would suffer terrible things and overcome them all (Matthew 10, verse 18); and that the good news would be preached in all the world (Matthew 24, verse 14). Now all this, and how it came to pass exactly as it was said, may be seen in this book, along with more besides that he told them while he was still with them.

Here again you will see the apostles themselves speeding over land and sea as though on wings. You will see those same men, once so fearful and without understanding, suddenly become quite different from what they had been: men who despise wealth, who are raised above glory and passion and craving, and in short above every feeling of that kind. You will see, besides, what oneness of mind there is among them now. Nowhere is there any envy, as there was before, and none of the old grasping after first place. Every virtue in them has been brought to its final finish, and shining through them all with surpassing brightness is that love about which the Lord had given so many commands, saying, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13, verse 35).

And then there are teachings to be found here that we could not have known as surely as we now do if this book had not existed. Without it the very crowning point of our salvation would be hidden, both for the way we live and for what we believe.

The greater part of this work, however, is taken up with the acts of Paul, who “worked harder than all of them” (First Corinthians 15, verse 10). The reason is that the author of this book, the blessed Luke, was his companion. He was a man whose fine qualities, plain enough in many other instances, show above all in his firm devotion to his teacher, whom he followed constantly. At a time when everyone had abandoned Paul, one gone off to Galatia and another to Dalmatia, listen to what Paul says of this disciple: “Only Luke is with me” (Second Timothy 4, verses 10 and 11). And giving the Corinthians instructions about him, he says, “whose praise is in the Gospel throughout all the churches” (Second Corinthians 8, verse 18). Again, when he says, “He was seen by Cephas, then by the Twelve,” and, “according to the Gospel which you received” (First Corinthians 15, verses 5 and 1), he means the Gospel of this Luke. So there can be no mistake in attributing this work to him; and when I say to him, I mean to Christ. [b]

Then why did he not relate everything, since he was with Paul to the end? We may answer that what is written here was enough for those who would pay attention, and that the sacred writers always gave themselves to whatever was of pressing importance at the time. It was no aim of theirs to be writers of books. In fact, there are many things they have handed down by unwritten tradition.

Now while everything in this book deserves admiration, one thing deserves it especially: the way the apostles stoop down to meet the needs of their hearers. The Spirit prompted this stooping down, and so arranged it that the subject they dwell on most is what belongs to Christ as a man. So it is that, while they speak so much about Christ, they have said little about his being God. They spoke mostly of his humanity, of his suffering, his resurrection and his ascension. For what was required first was that people should believe he had risen and ascended into heaven. Just as the point Christ himself most insisted on was that it should be known he had come from the Father, so this writer’s main object is to declare that Christ had risen from the dead and been taken up into heaven, and that he went to God and came from God.

For if the fact that he came from God had not first been believed, the Jews would have found the whole teaching far more incredible once the resurrection and the ascension were added to it. That is why he leads them on gently and by degrees to higher truths. At Athens Paul even calls him simply a man, without saying more (Acts 17, verse 31). For if they often tried to stone Christ himself when he spoke of his equality with the Father, and called him a blasphemer for it, it was hardly to be expected that they would accept this teaching from fishermen, and that with the cross coming before it.

But why speak of the Jews, when even the disciples were often troubled and offended on hearing the loftier teachings? That is why he told them, “I have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” (John 16, verse 12). If those men could not bear them, who had been with him so long, who had been let into so many secrets, and had seen so many wonders, how could anyone expect people newly dragged away from altars and idols and sacrifices, from cats and crocodiles (for such were the things the pagans worshiped), and from the rest of their evil ways, to take in the loftier matters of teaching all at once? [e]

And how, in particular, could Jews? Every day of their lives they heard it, and had it constantly ringing in their ears: “The Lord your God is one Lord, and besides him there is no other” (Deuteronomy 6, verse 4). They had also seen him hanging nailed to the cross; more than that, they had crucified and buried him themselves, and had not seen him even risen. When they were told that this same person was God and equal with the Father, how could they, of all people, be anything but shocked and repelled?

That is why the apostles carry them forward gently and little by little, with great consideration and forbearance, lowering themselves to their hearers’ small attainments. Meanwhile they themselves enjoyed the grace of the Spirit in fuller measure, and did greater works in Christ’s name than Christ himself had done, so that they might at once lift their hearers up from their groveling notions and confirm the message that Christ was raised from the dead. For this is exactly what this book is: a proof of the resurrection. Once this was believed, the rest would follow in due course. The subject, then, and the whole aim of this book is, in the main, what I have said. And now let us hear the preface itself.

“I made the former account, Theophilus, about all that Jesus began both to do and to teach” (verse 1). Why does he remind him of the Gospel? To show how fully he can be relied on. For at the start of the former work he says, “It seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write to you in order” (Luke 1, verse 3). Nor is he content with his own testimony; he refers the whole matter to the apostles, saying, “just as they handed them down to us, who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word” (Luke 1, verse 2).

Since he vouched for his account the first time, then, he has no need to present his credentials again for this work. His disciple has been satisfied once and for all, and by mentioning that former work Luke has reminded him how fully he may be trusted for the truth. For if a man has shown himself competent and trustworthy in writing about things he heard from others, and has won our confidence, he has a far better claim on our confidence when he has composed an account, not of things he received from others, but of things he himself saw and heard. You accepted what concerns Christ; much more will you accept what concerns the apostles.

“What then? Is this only a matter of history, with which the Holy Spirit has nothing to do?” Not at all. For if “those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word handed them down to us,” then what he says is theirs. And why did he not say, ‘just as those who were counted worthy of the Holy Spirit handed them down to us,’ but “those who were eyewitnesses”? Because in matters of belief, what most entitles a person to be believed is having learned from eyewitnesses, while the other claim looks to foolish people like mere show and pretension. [g]

That is why John too speaks this way: “I saw, and bore witness that this is the Son of God” (John 1, verse 34). And Christ speaks the same way to Nicodemus, while he was still slow to understand: “We speak what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, and no one receives our testimony” (John 3, verse 11). Accordingly, he allowed the disciples to rest their testimony on many points on the fact that they had seen them, when he said, “And you, bear witness about me, because you have been with me from the beginning” (John 15, verse 27).

The apostles themselves often speak the same way: “We are witnesses, and so is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey him” (Acts 5, verse 32). And on a later occasion Peter, still assuring his hearers of the resurrection, said, “for we ate and drank with him” (Acts 10, verse 41). People more readily accepted the testimony of those who had been his companions, because the idea of the Spirit was still far beyond them. That is why John too, at that time, in his Gospel, when he spoke of the blood and water, said that he himself saw it. For them he made his having seen it count as the highest testimony, although the witness of the Spirit is more certain than the evidence of sight. But it is not so with unbelievers.

Now that Luke shared in the Spirit is abundantly clear: from the miracles that take place even now; from the fact that in those times even ordinary people were given the Holy Spirit; from Paul’s testimony in the words “whose praise is in the Gospel” (Second Corinthians 8, verse 18); and from the appointment he was chosen for. For after saying this the apostle adds, “and not only that, but he was also appointed by the churches to travel with us in this gift of grace that we are administering.”

Now notice how unassuming he is. He does not say, ‘The former Gospel which I preached,’ but, “I made the former account,” counting the title of Gospel too great for himself, although it is on this very ground that the apostle honors him: “whose praise,” he says, “is in the Gospel.” But Luke himself modestly says, “I made the former account, Theophilus, about all that Jesus began both to do and to teach”: not simply “about all,” but from the beginning to the end, “until the day,” he says, “on which he was taken up.” [h]

And yet John says that it was not possible to write everything: “If they were written,” he says, “I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21, verse 25). How, then, does the evangelist here say “about all”? He does not say “all,” but “about all,” as if to say, “in summary and in broad outline,” and “about all that was chief and most pressing.” Then he tells us in what sense he says “all” when he adds, “which Jesus began both to do and to teach.” He means his miracles and his teaching; and not only that, but he implies that his doing was also a teaching.

But now consider the kindness and the apostolic spirit of the writer: for the sake of a single person he took such pains as to write a whole Gospel for him. “So that you may have,” he says, “the certainty of the things in which you have been instructed” (Luke 1, verse 4). He had heard Christ say, you see, “It is not the will of my Father that one of these little ones should perish” (Matthew 18, verse 14). And why did he not make it one book to send to the one man Theophilus, instead of dividing it into two subjects? For clarity, and to give the brother a pause to rest. Besides, the two works are distinct in their subject matter. [i]

But consider how Christ vouched for his words by his deeds. He says, “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matthew 11, verse 29). He taught people to be poor, and showed it by his actions: “For the Son of Man,” he says, “has nowhere to lay his head” (Matthew 8, verse 20). Again, he commanded people to love their enemies, and he taught the same lesson on the cross, when he prayed for those who were crucifying him. He said, “If anyone wants to sue you and take away your coat, let him have your cloak as well” (Matthew 5, verse 40); and he gave not only his garments but even his blood. This is how he told others to teach. That is why Paul too said, “just as you have us for an example” (Philippians 3, verse 17).

For nothing is colder than a teacher who shows his philosophy only in words. That is playing the part not of a teacher but of a hypocrite. So the apostles taught first by their conduct and then by their words; or rather, they had no need of words when their deeds spoke so loudly. Nor is it wrong to speak of Christ’s suffering as something he did. For in suffering he performed that great and wonderful act by which he destroyed death and brought about everything else he did for us.

“Until the day on which he was taken up, after he had given commands through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen” (verse 2). “After he had given commands through the Spirit”: that is, the words he spoke to them were spiritual, nothing human. Either this is the meaning, or else that it was by the Spirit that he gave them commands. Do you see in what lowly terms he still speaks of Christ, just as Christ had spoken of himself? “But if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God” (Matthew 12, verse 28). For the Holy Spirit was indeed at work in that temple. [j]

Well, what did he command? “Go therefore,” he says, “and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things whatever I have commanded you” (Matthew 28, verses 19 and 20). What high praise this is for the apostles, to have such a charge entrusted to them: I mean, the salvation of the world! Words full of the Spirit! And the writer hints at this in the phrase “through the Holy Spirit” (and “the words that I have spoken to you,” says the Lord, “are Spirit,” John 6, verse 63). In this way he leads the hearer on to want to learn what the commands were, and he establishes the authority of the apostles, since it is the words of the Spirit they are about to speak, and the commands of Christ.

“After he had given commands,” he says, “he was taken up.” He does not say “ascended”; he still speaks as of a man. It appears, then, that he also taught the disciples after his resurrection, but no one has told us the whole of that period in detail. John, it is true, dwells on this subject at greater length than the others, as the present writer also does; but none has clearly related everything, for they were hurrying on to something else. Still, we have learned these things through the apostles, for what they heard, they told.

“To whom also he showed himself alive.” Having first spoken of the ascension, he turns back to the resurrection. Since you have been told that “he was taken up,” he adds, so that you would not suppose he was taken up by others, “to whom he showed himself alive.” For if he showed himself in the greater matter, surely he did so in the lesser. Do you see how casually, and without being noticed, he drops the seeds of these great teachings along the way?

“Being seen by them during forty days.” He was not always with them now, as he had been before the resurrection. For the writer does not say “forty days,” but “during forty days.” He came, and disappeared again. By this he was leading them on to higher thoughts, and no longer allowing them to feel toward him as they had before. He was taking effective steps to secure two things at once: that his resurrection should be believed, and that from then on he himself should be understood to be greater than a man. Yet these two aims pulled in opposite directions. For belief in his resurrection, much had to be done of a human kind; for the other aim, just the reverse. Nevertheless, both results were achieved, each when its fitting time came. [k]

But why did he appear not to everyone, but to the apostles only? Because to the many it would have seemed a mere ghost, since they did not understand the secret of the mystery. If the disciples themselves were at first unbelieving and troubled, and needed the evidence of touching him with their hands and of his eating with them, how would it likely have gone with the crowd? For this reason, then, he makes the evidence of his resurrection unmistakable by the miracles the apostles worked, so that not only the people of that time (which is all the evidence of the eyes could have achieved), but everyone afterward as well, should be certain of the fact that he had risen.

On this ground we also argue with unbelievers. If he did not rise again, but remains dead, how did the apostles work miracles in his name? “But they did not work miracles.” Then how did our religion come to be established? This, certainly, they will not dispute; they will not challenge what we see with our own eyes. So when they say that no miracles took place, they deal themselves a worse wound. For this would be the greatest miracle of all: that without any miracles the whole world should have come eagerly to be caught in the nets of twelve poor and uneducated men. The fishermen did not prevail by wealth of money, or by wisdom of words, or by anything else of that kind. So those who object must admit, even against their will, that there was a divine power in these men; for no human strength could ever have achieved such great results.

That is why he stayed forty days on earth at that time: in this length of time he gave them sure evidence that they were seeing him in his own person, so that they would not suppose what they saw was a ghost. And not content with this, he added the evidence of eating with them at their table. To show this, the writer adds, “And while he was at table with them, he commanded” (verse 4). The apostles themselves always put this forward as a sure proof of the resurrection, as when they say, “who ate and drank with him” (Acts 10, verse 41).

And what did he do when he appeared to them during those forty days? He talked with them, the writer says, “about the kingdom of God” (verse 3). The disciples had been distressed and troubled by what had already happened, and they were about to go out to meet great difficulties; so he restored them by his talks about what was to come. “He commanded them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father” (verse 4). First he led them out to Galilee, frightened and trembling as they were, so that they might listen to his words in safety. Afterward, when they had heard him and had spent forty days with him, “he commanded them not to leave Jerusalem.” [m]

Why? When soldiers are about to charge a great host, no one thinks of letting them go out until they have armed themselves; and horses are not allowed to start from the gates until they have their charioteer. In the same way Christ did not let these men appear on the field before the Spirit came down, so that they would not be easily defeated and taken captive by the many.

Nor was this the only reason. There were also many in Jerusalem who were going to believe. And again, so that no one could say that they had left their own acquaintances and gone off to show off among strangers, they display the proofs of his resurrection among the very men who had put Christ to death, among those who had crucified and buried him, in the very city where the crime had been committed. In this way they stopped the mouths of all objectors from outside. For when even those who had crucified him are seen to be believers, this plainly proved both the fact of the crucifixion and the wickedness of the deed, and it furnished powerful evidence of the resurrection.

Furthermore, so that the apostles would not say, “How can we possibly live among wicked and bloodthirsty men, when they are so many and we so few and despised?” notice how he removes their fear and distress with these words: “But wait for the promise of the Father, which you have heard from me” (verse 4). You will say, “When had they heard this?” When he said, “It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Comforter will not come to you” (John 16, verse 7). And again, “I will ask the Father, and he will send you another Comforter, to remain with you” (John 14, verse 16).

But why did the Holy Spirit come to them not while Christ was present, and not even immediately after his departure? Christ ascended on the fortieth day, yet the Spirit came down “when the day of Pentecost,” that is, the fiftieth day, “had fully come” (Acts 2, verse 1). And if the Spirit had not yet come, how was it that he said, “Receive the Holy Spirit” (John 20, verse 22)? He said it to make them able and fit to receive him. For if Daniel fainted at the sight of an angel (Daniel 8, verse 17), how much more would these men, when they were about to receive so great a grace! Either this must be said, or else that Christ spoke of what was still to come as though it had already come, as when he said, “Tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the devil” (Luke 10, verse 19). [n]

But why had the Holy Spirit not yet come? It was fitting that they should first be brought to long for that event, and so receive the grace. That is why Christ himself departed first, and then the Spirit came down. For if Christ had been there himself, they would not have waited for the Spirit as eagerly as they did. For the same reason the Spirit did not come immediately after Christ’s ascension either, but after eight or nine days. It is the same with us: our longing for God rises highest when we are in need. So John chose to send his disciples to Christ at the time when they were most likely to feel their need of Jesus, during his own imprisonment.

Besides, it was fitting that our nature should first be seen in heaven and the reconciliation be made complete, and only then that the Spirit should come and the joy be unmixed. For if the Spirit had come first, and Christ had then departed while the Spirit remained, the comfort would not have been as great as it was. In fact they clung to him and could not bear to be parted from him. That is why, to comfort them, he said, “It is to your advantage that I go away” (John 16, verse 7). For this reason he also waits through the days in between, so that they might first be dejected for a while and, as I said, be made to feel their need of him, and then reap a full and unmixed delight. But if the Spirit were inferior to the Son, the comfort would not have been adequate; how then could he have said, “It is to your advantage”? That is why the greater matters of teaching were kept for the Spirit: so that the disciples would not imagine him inferior.

Consider also how he made it necessary for them to stay in Jerusalem, by promising that the Spirit would be given to them. So that they would not run away again after his ascension, he holds them to that spot by this expectation, as though tied by a bond. Having said, “Wait for the promise of the Father, which you have heard from me,” he then adds, “For John indeed baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now” (verses 4 and 5).

Now he lets them see the difference between himself and John plainly, and no longer in obscure hints as before. He had spoken very obscurely when he said, “Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matthew 11, verse 11). But now he says plainly, “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” He no longer quotes John’s testimony; he simply mentions John himself, reminding the disciples of what John had said, and he shows them that they have now become greater than John, since they too are to baptize with the Spirit. Again, he did not say, “I baptize you with the Holy Spirit,” but, “You will be baptized,” teaching us humility. For it was plain enough from John’s testimony that Christ himself was the one who would baptize: “He is the one who will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Luke 3, verse 16). That is also why he mentioned John.

The Gospels, then, are a history of what Christ did and said; the Acts, of what that “other Comforter” said and did. Not that the Spirit did not do many things in the Gospels too, just as Christ here in the Acts still works in people as he did in the Gospels. Only, then the Spirit worked through the Temple, and now through the apostles. Then he came into the Virgin’s womb and formed the Temple; now he comes into the souls of apostles. Then he came in the likeness of a dove; now in the likeness of fire. And why? There he was showing the Lord’s gentleness; here he shows that the Lord also takes vengeance, and so he now reminds them of the judgment as well. When forgiveness was needed, great gentleness was needed; but now that we have received the gift, it is from here on a time for judgment and scrutiny. [q]

But why does Christ say, “You will be baptized,” when in fact there was no water in the upper room? Because the more essential part of baptism is the Spirit, through whom the water itself does its work. In the same way our Lord too is said to have been anointed, not because he had ever been anointed with oil, but because he had received the Spirit. Besides, we do in fact find them receiving both a baptism with water and a baptism with the Spirit, and at different moments. In our case both take place in one act, but then they were divided. At the beginning they were baptized by John; for if prostitutes and tax collectors went to that baptism, much more would those who were afterward to be baptized by the Holy Spirit.

Then, so that the apostles would not say that they were forever having it held out to them in promises (John 14, verses 15 and 16) — for Christ had already said a great deal to them about the Spirit, so that they would not imagine the Spirit to be a mere force or activity with no real existence of his own — so that they would not say this, then, he adds, “not many days from now.” He did not explain when, so that they would always keep watch; but he told them it would happen soon, so that they would not lose heart. Yet he held back the exact time, so that they would always be alert. Nor does he reassure them by this alone, I mean by the shortness of the time, but also by saying, “the promise which you have heard from me.” It is as though he said: “This is not the only time I have told you. I have already promised it, and I will certainly do it.” Then what wonder is it that he does not reveal the day of the end of all things, when he did not choose to reveal even this day, which was so near? And with good reason: so that they may always be wakeful, waiting, and paying close attention.

For it cannot be — it simply cannot be — that anyone should enjoy the benefit of grace unless he keeps watch. Do you not see what Elijah says to his disciple? “If you see me when I am taken up” (Second Kings 2, verse 10), what you ask will be done for you. Christ too was always saying to those who came to him, “Do you believe?” For unless we are fitted to the gift and handed over to it, we do not greatly feel its benefit. So it was in Paul’s case too. Grace did not come to him at once; three days passed in between, during which he was blind, being cleansed meanwhile and prepared by fear. Those who dye cloth purple first treat the cloth that is to take the dye with other substances, so that the color will not quickly fade. In the same way God here first sees to it that the soul is thoroughly in earnest, and then pours out his grace. That is also why he did not send the Spirit immediately, but on the fiftieth day. [t]

Now if anyone asks why we too do not baptize at that season of Pentecost, we may answer that grace is the same now as it was then, but the mind is now raised higher by being prepared through fasting. And the season of Pentecost too offers a reason that is not unlikely. What is it? Our fathers held baptism to be the very curb for evil craving, and a powerful lesson that teaches us to be self-controlled even in a time of delights. As though, then, we were banqueting with Christ himself and sharing his table, let us do nothing carelessly, but let us spend our time in fasting and prayer and great self-control.

For if a man who is about to take up some office of government in this world prepares himself all his life long, and to win some high rank spends his money, spends his time, and puts up with endless troubles, what will we deserve, who come near to the kingdom of heaven so carelessly — who show no earnestness before we have received it, and are careless again after we have received it? In fact, this is the very reason we are careless after receiving it: we did not keep watch before we received it.

That is why many, as soon as they have received it, have gone back to their old vomit, and have become worse, and brought a more severe punishment on themselves. They had been set free from their former sins, and for that very reason they provoked the Judge more gravely: after being set free from so great a disease, they still did not learn self-control. What happened to them is what Christ threatened the paralyzed man with when he said, “See, you have been made well. Sin no more, so that nothing worse happens to you” (John 5, verse 14), and what he also foretold of the Jews, that “the last state will be worse than the first” (Matthew 12, verse 45). For, showing that by their ingratitude they would bring the worst of evils on themselves, he says, “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin” (John 15, verse 22). So the guilt of sins committed after these benefits is doubled and quadrupled, because after the honor shown us we prove ungrateful and wicked. And the washing of baptism does nothing at all to win us a lighter punishment.

Consider this. A man has committed grievous sins — murder, or adultery, or some other crime — and these were forgiven through baptism. For there is no sin, no ungodliness, that does not yield and give way before this gift, for the grace is divine. Then the man commits adultery and murder again. The earlier adultery is indeed wiped out and the murder forgiven, and they are not brought up against him again, for “the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (Romans 11, verse 29). But for the sins committed after baptism he suffers a punishment as great as he would if both the earlier sins were brought up again, and many worse than these. For the guilt is no longer simply equal; it is doubled and tripled. Look: to prove that the penalty for these sins is greater, hear what Saint Paul says: “Whoever despised the law of Moses died without mercy on the word of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you suppose, will he be thought to deserve who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and counted the blood of the covenant an unholy thing, and insulted the Spirit of grace?” (Hebrews 10, verses 28 and 29).

Perhaps we have now frightened many away from receiving baptism. But that is not why we have spoken this way. We spoke so that those who have received it may continue in self-control and great moderation. “But I am afraid.” If you were afraid, you would have received it and guarded it. “No — this is the very reason I do not receive it: I am frightened.” And are you not afraid to depart this life as you are? “God is merciful.” Then receive baptism, because he is merciful and ready to help. But where earnestness is what is required, you do not bring up this mercy; you think of it only where you choose to. And yet that was the time to take refuge in God’s mercy, and we will be surest of obtaining it when we do our own part. The one who has cast the whole matter on God, and after his baptism sins, as a human being is likely to, and repents, will obtain mercy. But the one who trifles with God’s mercy and departs this life with no share in that grace will be punished with not a word to say in his defense. “But what if he departs after the grace has been given him?” He will still depart empty of all good works. For it is impossible — yes, in my opinion it is impossible — that the man who trifled with baptism on such hopes should have done anything noble and good.

Why do you harbor such fear, and count on the uncertain chance of the future? Why not turn this fear into labor and earnestness? Then you will be great and admirable. Which is better, to be afraid or to work? Suppose someone put you, with nothing to do, in a tottering house and said, “Expect the rotting roof to fall on your head. Perhaps it will fall, perhaps not. But if you would rather it did not, then work, and live in the safer room.” Which would you have chosen: that idle state with its fear, or this labor with its confidence? Then act the same way now. The uncertain future is like a rotting house, always threatening to fall; but this work, hard as it is, makes you safe.

Now may it never happen to us to fall into such straits as to sin after baptism. Yet even if something of the kind should happen, God is merciful, and has given us many ways of obtaining forgiveness even after this. But just as those who sin after baptism are for that very reason punished more severely than the catechumens, so again those who know that repentance holds medicines, and yet will not use them, will undergo a heavier punishment. For the more widely God’s mercy is opened to us, the more the punishment grows if we do not make proper use of that mercy. [w]

What do you say, my friend? When you were full of such grievous evils and given up for lost, you suddenly became a friend and were raised to the highest honor, not by any labors of your own, but by the gift of God. You went back again to your former wrongdoing. And though you deserved to be severely punished, God still did not turn away, but gave you countless opportunities of salvation by which you might yet become a friend again. And for all this you have no will to work. What forgiveness can you deserve from now on? Will not the pagans laugh at you, and rightly, as a worthless drone? For they say: “If there is any power in that teaching of yours, what is the meaning of this crowd of people not yet initiated?” If the mysteries are excellent and worth desiring, let no one receive baptism at his last gasp. That is not the time for giving the mysteries but for making wills; the time for the mysteries is when the mind is healthy and the soul is sound.

For a man would not choose to make his will in such a condition; and if he does make it so, he gives a handle for lawsuits afterward. That is why those making wills begin with these words: “Alive, of sound mind, and in good health, I make this disposal of my property.” How then would it be possible for someone who is no longer in command of his senses to go through the proper preparation for the sacred mysteries? If in the affairs of this life the laws of the world will not let a man who is not fully sound in mind make a will, even though it is his own affairs he would be setting in order, then how, when you are receiving instruction about the kingdom of heaven and the riches of that world beyond words, will it be possible for you to learn it all clearly, when very likely you are out of your mind besides, from the violence of your illness? And when will you say those words to Christ, in the very act of being buried with him (Romans 6, verse 4), when you are on the point of departing this life? For we must show our goodwill toward him both by deeds and by words.

What you are doing is just as if a man wanted to enlist as a soldier when the war is about to end, or to strip for the contest in the arena just when the spectators have risen from their seats. You were given your weapons, not so that you would depart at once, but so that, equipped with them, you might set up a trophy over the enemy.

Let no one think it is out of season to speak on this subject because it is not Lent now. This is the very thing that troubles me: that you look for a set time in such matters. The eunuch, barbarian though he was, and on a journey — yes, on the open highway — did not look for a set time (Acts 8, verse 27). Nor did the jailer, though he was in the middle of a crowd of prisoners, and the teacher he saw before him was a man who had been flogged and was in chains, a man he was still to keep in his custody (Acts 16, verse 29). But here, many who are neither inmates of a jail nor out on a journey are putting off their baptism to their very last breath.

Now, if you still doubt that Christ is God, stand apart from the church. Do not be here, not even as a hearer of the divine word and one of the catechumens. But if you are sure of this and know this truth clearly, why delay? Why shrink back and hesitate? “For fear that I might sin.” But are you not afraid of what is worse, to depart for the next world with such a heavy load? For it is not equally excusable to have failed to take a grace set before you and to have tried to live uprightly and failed. If you are called to account — “Why did you not come for it?” — what will you answer? In the other case you can plead the weight of your passions and the difficulty of a virtuous life; but there is nothing of that kind here, for here is grace, bringing freedom as a free gift. You are afraid you might sin? Let that be what you say after baptism. Hold on to this fear then, in order to keep the freedom you have received — not now, to keep yourself from receiving so great a gift. As it is, you are cautious before baptism and careless after it. [x]

But you are waiting for Lent. Why? Does that season have some advantage? No; it was not at the Passover that the apostles received the grace, but at another season. And then three thousand were baptized, as Luke says, and five thousand (Acts 2, verse 41, and 4, verse 4), and again Cornelius (Acts, chapter 10). So let us not wait for a set time, or by hesitating and putting it off we may depart empty, stripped of such great gifts.

What anguish do you suppose I feel when I hear that someone has been taken away unbaptized, as I think of the unbearable punishments of that life, the doom there is no escaping! And again, how grieved I am to see others at their last gasp who do not come to their right mind even then! That is also why scenes take place that are quite unworthy of this gift. When someone is baptized, there ought to be joy, and dancing, and gladness, and the wearing of garlands. Instead, as soon as the sick man’s wife hears that the physician has ordered it, she is overcome with grief as if it were some dreadful disaster. She sets up the loudest lamentation, and nothing is heard all over the house but crying and wailing, just as when condemned criminals are led away to their death. The sick man, for his part, is then more deeply grieved; and if he recovers from his illness, he is as upset as if some great harm had been done him. For since he was not prepared for a virtuous life, he has no heart for the struggles that are to follow, and he shrinks at the thought of them.

Do you see what schemes the devil contrives — what shame, what mockery? Let us rid ourselves of this disgrace. Let us live as Christ has commanded. He gave us baptism, not so that we would receive it and depart, but so that we would show its fruits in the life that follows. How can anyone say, “Bear fruit,” to a man who is departing and broken down? Have you not heard that “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace” (Galatians 5, verse 22)? How is it, then, that the very opposite happens here? The wife stands there mourning when she ought to rejoice; the children weep when they ought to be glad together; the sick man himself lies there in darkness, surrounded by noise and commotion, when he ought to be keeping high festival, full of deep dejection at the thought of leaving his children orphans, his wife a widow, his house desolate.

Is this a state in which to come near to the mysteries? Answer me: is this a state in which to approach the sacred table? Are such scenes to be put up with? If the emperor sends letters and releases the prisoners in the jails, there is joy and gladness. God sends down the Holy Spirit from heaven to cancel, not unpaid debts of money, but a whole mass of sins — and do all of you weep and wail? How grossly out of place this is! Not to mention that sometimes the water has been poured on the dead, and the holy mysteries thrown away on the ground. It is not we who are to blame for this, but people who are so perverse.

So I urge you to leave everything, and turn, and come to baptism with all eagerness, so that, having given proof of great earnestness now, we may gain confidence for what is to come. May it be granted to us all to attain it, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.