Homily 9 — Acts 3, verses 12 to 26

“And when Peter saw it, he answered the people, ‘Men of Israel, why do you marvel at this, or why do you stare so intently at us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made this man walk?’” [a]

There is more boldness in this address than in the former one. Not that he was afraid on that earlier occasion; but the people he was speaking to there were jesters and scoffers, and they would not have put up with it. That is why, at the start of that address, he also asks for their attention with an opening: “Let this be known to you, and listen to my words” (Acts 2, verse 14). But here there is no need of such preparation, for his hearers were not indifferent. The miracle had roused them all; they were even full of fear and amazement.

So there was no need to begin at that point either, but rather with a different subject — and by it, in fact, he won them over powerfully: by refusing the glory they were ready to give him. For nothing is so useful, and so likely to calm the hearers, as to say nothing honorable about oneself, and instead to head off any suspicion of wanting to. And truly, they increased their glory far more by despising glory, and by showing that what had just happened was no human act but God’s work, and that their part was to join the onlookers in wonder rather than to receive wonder from them.

Do you see how free he is of all love of show, and how he pushes away the honor paid to him? The ancient fathers did the same. Daniel, for instance, said, “Not for any wisdom that is in me” (Daniel 2, verse 30). And Joseph again: “Do not interpretations belong to God?” (Genesis 40, verse 8). And David: “When the lion and the bear came, in the name of the Lord I tore them apart with my hands” (First Samuel 17, verse 34). So here too the apostles say, “Why do you stare so intently at us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made this man walk?” No, not even by that; it was not by any merit of ours that we drew down the power of God.

“The God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob, the God of our fathers” (verse 13). See how eagerly he attaches himself to the fathers of old, so that he will not seem to be bringing in a new teaching. In the former address he appealed to the patriarch David; here he appeals to Abraham and the others. “Has glorified his Servant Jesus.” Again a lowly expression, just as in the opening address.

But at this point he goes on to enlarge on the outrage and to heighten how monstrous the deed was, no longer throwing a veil over it as he did before. He does this because he wants to work on them more powerfully; for the more he proved them guilty, the better his purpose would be served. “Has glorified,” he says, “his Servant Jesus, whom you handed over and denied in the presence of Pilate, when he had decided to let him go.” The charge is twofold: Pilate wanted to let him go; you would not, though he was willing. [e]

“But you denied the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you, and killed the Prince of Life, whom God has raised from the dead; of this we are witnesses” (verses 14 and 15). You asked for a robber instead of him! He shows how much worse this makes the deed. Now that he has them in his hands, he strikes hard. “The Prince of Life,” he says; and in these words he establishes the teaching of the resurrection. “Whom God has raised from the dead.”

“How does this appear?” He no longer appeals to the prophets but to himself, since he now has a right to be believed. Before, when he declared that Christ had risen, he brought forward the testimony of David; now, having said it, he appeals to the company of the apostles. “Of this we are witnesses,” he says. [g]

“And his name, through faith in his name, has made this man strong, whom you see and know; yes, the faith that comes through him has given him this perfect soundness in the presence of you all” (verse 16). Wanting to state the facts, he brings forward the sign at once: “In the presence,” he says, “of you all.”

Having pressed hard on them, and shown that the one they crucified had risen, he eases off again by giving them the chance to repent: “And now, brothers, I know that you did it in ignorance, as your rulers did too” (verse 17). This is one ground of excuse. The second is of a different kind, like Joseph’s words to his brothers: “God sent me ahead of you” (Genesis 45, verse 5). What he had said briefly in the former speech, in the words, “Him, handed over by the fixed counsel and foreknowledge of God, you have taken,” he enlarges on here: “But what God had announced beforehand by the mouth of all his prophets, that his Christ would suffer, he has fulfilled in this way” (verse 18). At the same time he shows that it was not their doing, once it is proved that it happened according to God’s counsel.

He is alluding to the words with which they had reviled him on the cross: “Let him deliver him, if he wants him; for he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’ If he trusts in God, let him come down now from the cross” (Matthew 27, verses 42 and 43). You foolish men, were these idle words? It had to happen so, and the prophets bear witness to it. So if he did not come down, it was not from any weakness of his own that he did not come down, but from very power. And Peter puts this forward as a defense for the Jews, hoping that they may also come around to what he says. “He has fulfilled it in this way,” he says. Do you see now how he traces everything back to that source?

“Repent, then,” he says, “and turn back.” He does not add, “from your sins”; but “so that your sins may be blotted out” means the same thing. And then he adds the gain: “So the times of refreshing will come from the presence of the Lord” (verse 19). This shows that they were in a sorry state, brought low by many wars; for the expression fits someone on fire and longing for relief.

And see now how he moves forward. In his first sermon he only touched lightly on the resurrection and on Christ’s sitting in heaven; but here he also speaks of his visible coming: “And he will send Jesus, the Christ appointed for you, whom heaven must receive” — must of necessity — “until the times of the restoration of all things.” The reason he does not come now is clear. “Which God has spoken,” he continues, “by the mouth of his holy prophets since the world began. For Moses truly said to the fathers, ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a Prophet from among your brothers, like me; you shall listen to him in everything he says to you.’” Before, he had spoken of David; here he speaks of Moses.

“Of all things,” he says, “which he has spoken.” But he does not say, “which Christ,” but, “which God has spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began” (verses 20 and 21). Then he turns to what makes it credible, saying, “The Lord your God will raise up for you a Prophet from among your brothers, like me; you shall listen to him in everything.” And then the greatness of the punishment: “And it will come to pass that every soul that will not listen to that Prophet will be destroyed from among the people. Yes, and all the prophets, from Samuel and those who came after him, as many as have spoken, have likewise foretold these days” (verses 23 and 24).

He did well to draw the distinction here; for whenever he says anything great, he appeals to the men of old. And he found a text that contained both truths, just as in the other address he said, “Until he puts his enemies under his feet” (Acts 2, verse 35). The remarkable thing is that the two stand together: subjection and disobedience, and the punishment. “Like me,” he says. Then why are you alarmed?

“You are the children of the prophets” (verse 25): so it was to you they spoke, and for your sakes all these things have come about. They supposed that by their outrage they had made themselves strangers to him — and indeed it hardly stood to reason that he who had now been crucified should now cherish them as his own — so he proves to them that both the one and the other are in keeping with prophecy. “You are the children,” he says, “of the prophets, and of the covenant that God made with our fathers, saying to Abraham, ‘And in your seed all the families of the earth will be blessed.’ To you first,” he continues, “God, having raised up his Son, sent him.” To others as well, that is, but to you first, who crucified him. “To bless you,” he adds, “in turning each one of you away from his wrongdoings” (verse 26).

Now let us look again, more closely, at what has been read. [j]

First, he makes it certain that the miracle had been done by them, when he says, “Why do you marvel?” And he will not let the claim be doubted; and to give it more weight, he gets in ahead of their judgment. “Why do you stare so intently at us,” he says, “as though by our own power or holiness we had made this man walk?” (verse 12). If this troubles and confounds you, learn who it was that did it, and do not be amazed.

And notice how, whenever he refers to God and says that everything comes from him, he rebukes them fearlessly — as above, where he said, “A man approved by God among you” (Acts 2, verse 22). And on every occasion he reminds them of the outrage they had committed, so that the fact of the resurrection may be established. But here he also adds something more; for he no longer says, “of Nazareth,” but what?

“The God of our fathers has glorified his Servant Jesus” (verse 13). Notice his modesty too. He did not reproach them, nor did he say at once, “Believe, then, now: look, a man who has been lame for forty years has been raised up through the name of Jesus Christ.” He did not say this, for it would have stirred up opposition. On the contrary, he begins by commending them for marveling at the deed, and again calls them after their ancestor: “Men of Israel.” Nor does he say, “It was Jesus who healed him,” but, “The God of our fathers has glorified,” and so on.

But then, so that they would not say, “How can this make sense, that God should glorify a lawbreaker?” he reminds them of the trial before Pilate, showing that, if only they would think about it, he was no lawbreaker; otherwise Pilate would not have wanted to release him. And he does not say, “when Pilate wanted to,” but, “when he had decided to let him go.” “But you denied the Holy One,” and so on (verses 13 and 14). The man who had killed others, you asked to have released; the one who gives life to those who have been killed, you did not want!

And so that they would not ask again, “How can it be that God glorifies him now, when before he gave him no help?” he brings forward the prophets, testifying that it had to be so: “But the things God had announced beforehand,” and so on (verse 18). Then, so that they would not suppose that God’s arrangement was their excuse, he first rebukes them. Besides, denying him “in the presence of Pilate” was no ordinary thing, since Pilate wished to release him. And you cannot deny this: the man who was asked for instead of him is a witness against you. This too is part of a deep arrangement of God’s.

Here it shows their shamelessness and brazenness: that a Gentile, a man who saw him for the first time, should have acquitted him, though he had heard nothing remarkable, while they, who had been brought up among his miracles, did the very opposite! For since he has said, “When he” — Pilate — “had decided to let him go,” then, so that no one would imagine Pilate did this as a favor, we read: “And he said, ‘You have a custom that I release one prisoner to you; do you want me, then, to release to you this man?’” (Matthew 27, verse 15; Mark 15, verse 6). “But you denied the Holy and Righteous One.”

He does not say, “You handed him over,” but everywhere, “You denied him.” For they said, “We have no king but Caesar” (John 19, verse 15). And he does not say only, “You did not beg off the innocent man,” and, “You denied him,” but, “You killed him.” While they were hardened he held back from such language; but when their minds are most deeply moved, then he strikes home, now that they are in a state to feel it. Just as we say nothing to men while they are drunk, but rebuke them once they are sober and have recovered from their drunkenness, so Peter did. When they were able to understand his words, then he too sharpened his tongue and brought many charges against them: that they had handed over the one God had glorified; that they had denied, in his own presence, the one Pilate would have acquitted; that they had preferred the robber to him.

Notice again how he speaks in a veiled way of Christ’s power, showing that he raised himself. Just as in his first address he had said, “Because it was not possible for him to be held by it” (Acts 2, verse 24), so here he says, “And you killed the Prince of Life” (verse 15). It follows that the life he had was not from another. The prince, or author, of evil would be the one who first brought evil into being; the prince, or author, of murder, the one who first began murder; so too the Prince, or Author, of Life must be the one who has life from himself. [l]

“Whom God raised up,” he continues; and having said this, he adds, “And his name, upon faith in his name, has made this man strong, whom you see and know; yes, the faith that comes through him has given him this perfect soundness.” And yet it was faith in him, with him as its object, that did it all. For the apostles did not say, “by the name,” but, “in the name”; and it was in him that the man believed. But they did not yet venture to use the expression, “the faith that is in him.” For so that the phrase “through him” would not sound too low, notice that after saying, “upon faith in his name,” he adds, “his name has made him strong,” and only then says, “yes, the faith that comes through him has given him this perfect soundness.”

Notice how he implies that in the former expression too, “Whom God raised up,” he was only stooping down to meet their low level of understanding. For the one whose name raised up a lame man, as good as dead, did not need another’s help to rise again.

Notice how on every occasion he brings in their own testimony. Above he said, “As you yourselves also know,” and, “In your midst” (Acts 2, verse 22); and here again, “Whom you see and know,” and, “in the presence of you all.” They did not know, it is true, that it was done “in his name”; but they did know that the man had been lame, and that he stands there whole. Those who had done the deed confessed of themselves that it was not by their own power but by Christ’s. And had this claim been baseless — had they not been truly convinced themselves that Christ had risen — they would not have tried to establish the honor of a dead man instead of their own, especially with the eyes of the crowd upon them.

Then, when their minds were alarmed, he at once encourages them by calling them brothers: “And now, brothers, I know,” and so on. In the former address he foretold nothing, but only said concerning Christ, “Therefore let all the house of Israel know for certain”; here he adds a word of admonition. There he waited until the people spoke; here he knew how much they had already accomplished, and that the present gathering was better disposed toward them.

“That you did it in ignorance.” And yet the things mentioned above could not be put down to ignorance. To choose the robber, to reject the one who had been judged fit for acquittal, even to want to destroy him — how could this be put down to ignorance? Nevertheless, he gives them room to deny it, and to change their minds about what had happened.

“That you were putting an innocent man to death, you knew; but that you were killing ‘the Prince of Life,’ this, perhaps, you did not know.” And he excused not only them but also the chief plotters of the evil — “you and your rulers” — for if he had gone off into accusation, it would surely have roused their opposition. When you accuse a wrongdoer of some wickedness he has done, he grows more heated in his effort to clear himself. And he no longer says, “You crucified,” “You killed,” but, “You did it,” leading them on to seek pardon. If the rulers did it in ignorance, much more did the people here present. [o]

“But these things which God had announced beforehand,” and so on (verse 18). It is remarkable that in both the first address and the second, though he speaks to the same effect — in the former, “By the fixed counsel and foreknowledge of God,” and in this one, “God had announced beforehand that the Christ would suffer” — in neither does he bring forward any particular text as proof. The fact is that each such passage comes with many accusations, and with mention of the punishment in store for them. For example, one prophet says, “I will give up the wicked in return for his grave, and the rich in return for his death” (Isaiah 53, verse 9).

And again, “The things,” he says, “that God had announced beforehand by the mouth of all his prophets, that the Christ would suffer, he has fulfilled in this way.” This shows how great that “counsel” was, since all spoke of it, and not one only. And it does not follow that, because the deed was done in ignorance, it took place apart from God’s ordering. See how great the wisdom of God is, when it uses the wickedness of others to bring about what must be. “He has fulfilled,” he says, so that they will not imagine that anything at all is lacking; for whatever the Christ had to suffer has been fulfilled.

But do not think that, because the prophets said this, and because you did it in ignorance, this is enough to clear you. He does not put it that way, however, but says in milder terms, “Repent, then” (verse 19). “Why? Either it was done in ignorance, or by God’s arrangement.” “So that your sins may be blotted out.” I do not mean the crimes committed at the crucifixion; perhaps those were done in ignorance. I mean so that your other sins may be blotted out: only this.

“So the times of refreshing will come to you.” Here he speaks of the resurrection, in a veiled way. For those are truly times of refreshing, which Paul too was looking for when he said, “We who are in this tent groan, being burdened” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 4). Then, to prove that Christ is the cause of the days of refreshing, he says, “And he will send Jesus Christ, who was appointed for you beforehand” (verse 20). He did not say, “that your sin may be blotted out,” but, “your sins”; for he hints at that sin too.

“He will send.” And from where? “Whom heaven must receive” (verse 21). “Must receive,” still? And why not simply, “whom heaven has received”? He speaks as though of things settled long ago: so, he says, God has ordered it; so it is fixed. Not a word yet of his eternal existence.

“For Moses indeed said to the fathers, ‘The Lord will raise up a Prophet for you; you shall listen to him in everything he says to you’” (verse 22). And having said, “All the things God has spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets,” he now brings in Christ himself. For if he foretold many things, and it is necessary to listen to him, one would not be wrong in saying that the prophets have spoken these things. But besides this, he wants to show that the prophets foretold the same things. And anyone who looks closely into the matter will find these things spoken in the Old Testament — obscurely, it is true, but spoken nonetheless.

“Who was purposely appointed,” he says: so there is nothing new in him. Here he also alarms them with the thought that much remains to be fulfilled. But if so, how can he say, “He has fulfilled” (verse 18)? The things the Christ had to suffer have been fulfilled; the things that must yet come to pass, not yet.

“The Lord God will raise up for you a Prophet from among your brothers, like me.” This would do most to win them over. Do you notice how lowly things and lofty ones are scattered side by side — that he who was to go up into the heavens should be like Moses? And yet this too was a great thing. For in fact he was not simply like Moses, if indeed “every soul that will not listen will be destroyed.” One could mention countless other things that show he was not like Moses; so it is a mighty text that he has taken in hand. “God will raise him up for you,” says Moses, “from among your brothers,” and so on; so Moses himself threatens those who will not listen.

“Yes, and all the prophets,” and so on: all this is meant to draw them. “Yes, and all the prophets,” says the apostle, “from Samuel.” He does not list them one by one, so as not to make his address too long; but having brought forward that decisive testimony of Moses, he passes over the rest. “You,” he says, “are the children of the prophets, and of the covenant that God made” (verse 25).

“Children of the covenant”: that is, heirs. He shows that this offer was owed to them from long ago, so that they would not think they were receiving it as a favor from Peter, and so that they would be all the more ready to believe that this is also the will of God. “To you first,” he goes on, “God, having raised up his Son Jesus, sent him” (verse 26). He does not simply say, “He sent his Son to you,” but adds that it was after the resurrection, and after he had been crucified. And so that they would not suppose that he himself was granting them this favor, and not the Father, he says, “to bless you.” For if he is your brother and blesses you, the matter is a promise. “To you first”: that is, you are so far from having no share in these blessings that he wants you, besides, to be the ones who promote them and bring them to others. You are not to feel like outcasts. “Having raised up”: the resurrection again. [r]

“In turning away every one of you from his wrongdoings,” he says. This is how he blesses you, and not in some general way. And what kind of blessing is this? A great one. For of course turning a man away from his wrongdoings is not in itself enough to forgive them as well. And if it is not enough to forgive them, how could it be enough to confer a blessing? We are not to suppose that the sinner at once becomes blessed as well; he is simply released from his sins. But this “like me” would not apply at all.

“Listen to him,” he says. And not only this; he adds, “And it will come to pass that every soul that will not listen to that prophet will be destroyed from among the people.” When he has shown them that they had sinned, and has granted them forgiveness, and has promised them good things, then, and only then, he says, “Moses also says the same thing.” What kind of connection is this: “until the times of the restoration,” and then to bring in Moses, saying that everything Christ said will come to pass? Then again, on the other side, he says by way of praise (so that for this reason too you ought to obey), “You are the children of the prophets and of the covenant”: that is, heirs. Why then do you treat what is your own as though it belonged to someone else? True, you have done things that deserve condemnation; still, you may yet obtain pardon. Having said this, he can now fairly say, “To you God sent his Son Jesus to bless you.” He does not say “to save you,” but something greater: that the crucified Jesus blessed those who crucified him.

Let us, then, imitate him too. Let us throw out that spirit of murder and hostility. It is not enough not to pay back wrong with wrong; even under the old covenant this was shown in practice. No, let us do everything for those who have injured us as we would for our closest friends, as we would for ourselves. We are followers of him, we are his disciples, who after being crucified set everything in motion on behalf of his murderers, and sent out his apostles for this very purpose. And yet we have often suffered what we deserved; but they acted not only unjustly but impiously. He was their benefactor, he had done no wrong, and they crucified him. And for what reason? For the sake of their reputation. But he himself made them objects of respect: “The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat; so whatever they tell you to observe, do it; but do not do what they do” (Matthew 23, verses 2 and 3). And again in another place: “Go your way, show yourself to the priest” (Matthew 8, verse 4). Besides this, when he could have destroyed them, he saves them. Let us, then, imitate him, and let no one be anyone’s enemy, no one anyone’s foe, except the devil’s. [t]

The habit of not swearing contributes no small amount toward this; I mean toward not giving way to anger. And by not giving way to anger we will not have an enemy either. Cut off a man’s oaths, and you have clipped the wings of his anger; you have smothered all his passion. Swearing, as the saying goes, is to anger what the wind is. Lower the sails: there is no need of sails when there is no wind. If, then, we do not shout, and do not swear, we have cut the sinews of passion. And if you doubt this, just put it to the test. Lay it down as a law for the hot-tempered man that he is never to swear, and you will have no need to preach self-restraint to him. The whole business is finished. [v]

Even if you do not swear falsely, by swearing at all, do you not see what absurd results you bring on yourselves? You bind yourselves by an absolute necessity, as though with a rope. You put yourselves to every kind of shift, like men trying to work out how to rescue their soul from an evil there is no escaping; or, failing that, you are forced by the necessity you laid on yourselves to spend the rest of your life in vexation and quarrels, cursing your own anger. But it is all in vain and to no purpose. Threaten, be firm, do whatever it may be, but without swearing. Then it is in your power, if you choose, to undo both what you have said and what you have done.

So today I must speak to you more gently. Since you have listened to me, and the greater part of the reform has been carried out by you, let us now see why the taking of oaths was brought in, and why it was allowed. By telling you how oaths first began, when they were thought up, and how, and by whom, we will give you this account as a reward for your obedience. For it is right that the man who has set his practice straight should be taught the reasoning behind it; but the man who is not yet doing what is right does not deserve to be told the history.

In Abraham’s time they made many covenants, and killed victims, and offered sacrifices, and there were no oaths yet. Where, then, did oaths come from? When evil increased, when everything was in confusion and turned upside down, when people had turned aside to idolatry: then it was, when people no longer seemed worthy of belief, that they called God as a witness, as though by this they were giving an adequate guarantee for what they said. That, in fact, is what an oath is: a guarantee given where people’s character cannot be trusted. So in the indictment of the man who swears, the first charge is this: he cannot be trusted without a guarantor, and a great guarantor at that. So extreme is the lack of trust that they do not ask for a man as guarantor, but insist on having God! Second, the same charge lies against the man who accepts the oath: in a question of a contract he must drag in God as his security, and refuses to be satisfied unless he gets him. What stupidity, what insolence this is! You, a worm, earth and dust and ashes and vapor, drag in your Lord as guarantor, and force the other man to drag him in as well!

Tell me: if your servants were disputing with each other and exchanging pledges, and one fellow servant declared that for his part he would not be satisfied until he was given their common master as guarantor, would he not be given countless lashes, and be made to understand that the master is there for other purposes and is not to be put to any such use as this? But why do I speak of a fellow servant? If he chose any respectable person, would not that person take it as an insult?

“But I do not want to do this.” Well then, do not force the other man to do it either. For this is what is done where only human beings are concerned: if the other party says, “I offer so-and-so as my guarantor,” you do not allow it. “What then? Am I to lose what I have handed over?” That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about your allowing him to insult God. That is why the punishment awaiting the man who forces an oath on another will be greater, beyond escape, than that of the man who takes it; and the same holds for the man who offers an oath when no one asks him for one. And what makes it worse is that everyone is ready to swear for a single penny, for some petty item, to cover his own injustice. All this may be said when no perjury follows; but if perjury follows as well, then both the one who imposes the oath and the one who takes it have turned everything upside down.

“But there are some things that cannot be known.” Then take that into account, and do nothing carelessly. But if you do act carelessly, take the loss on yourself as your punishment. It is better to be the loser this way than in a very different way. For tell me: you force a man to take an oath, expecting what? That he will swear falsely? That is utter insanity, and the judgment will fall on your own head. Better for you to lose your money than for him to be lost. Why act this way, to your own harm and to the insult of God? This is the spirit of a wild beast and of an ungodly man. Or do you do it expecting that he will not swear falsely? Then trust him without the oath. “No, there are many who would dare to cheat if there were no oath, but once they have sworn would hold back.” You are deceiving yourself, my friend. A man who has once learned to steal and to wrong his neighbor will often dare to trample on his oath; and if, on the contrary, he shrinks from swearing, he will shrink much more from injustice. “But he is pushed into it against his will.” Well then, he deserves pardon.

But why am I speaking about oaths of this kind, while I pass over the oaths of the marketplace? As for these, you cannot plead any of these excuses. There, for ten pennies, you have swearing and false swearing. The fact is that because the thunderbolt does not actually fall from heaven, because everything is not overturned, you stand there holding God in your bonds, calling him to witness to get a few vegetables, a pair of shoes, a trifling sum of money. What does this mean? Let us not imagine that because we are not punished we are not sinning. This comes from God’s mercy, not from our merit. [aa]

Let your oath be a curse on your own child, on your own self. Say, “If not, let the executioner flog my ribs.” But you do not dare. Is God worth less than your ribs? Is he less precious than your skull? Say, “If not, may I be struck blind.” But no. Christ spares us so much that he will not let us swear even by our own head; and yet we spare the honor of God so little that we must drag him in on every occasion! You do not know what God is, or with what kind of lips he ought to be called on. Why, when we speak of some man of eminent worth, we say, “First wash your mouth, and then mention him.” And yet that precious name which is above every name, the name that is wonderful in all the earth, the name that demons hear and tremble at, we drag around as we please! Oh, the force of habit! Through it that name has become cheap.

No doubt, if you require someone to come into the sacred building and take his oath there, you feel you have made the oath a fearful one. And yet why does it seem fearful that way, except that we have been in the habit of using the one at random, but not the other? Ought not a shudder of awe to be felt when God is merely named? But as it is, although among the Jews his name was held in such reverence that it was written on plates, and no one was allowed to wear the letters except the high priest alone, we toss his name around like any ordinary word. If simply naming God was not allowed to everyone, what audacity it is to call him as a witness! No, what madness! Even if you had to throw away everything you own rather than do this, ought you not to part with it all gladly?

Look: I solemnly declare and bear witness. Reform these oaths of the marketplace, these needless oaths, and bring to me all who want to take them. Look: in the presence of this assembly I charge those who are appointed to take care of the houses of prayer; I urge them and give them this order, that no one be allowed to take such oaths at his own discretion. Or rather, that no one be allowed to swear in any other way at all, but that the person be brought to me, whoever he is. For even in these matters nothing less will do: they must come before us, just as though we were dealing with little children. May it never come to that! It is a shame still to need teaching in some things.

Would you dare to touch the holy table if you were unbaptized? No. But what is still worse, you, the baptized, dare to lay your hand on the holy table, which not even all who are ordained are allowed to touch, and take your oath that way! You would not go and lay your hand on your own child’s head, would you? And yet you touch the table without a shudder, without feeling afraid? Bring these men to me. I will judge between them, and send them both away rejoicing, the one and the other. Do what you like; I lay it down as a law that there be no swearing at all.

What hope of salvation is there, while we make everything go for nothing like this? Is this what your bills and your bonds come to, that you should sacrifice your own soul? What gain do you get that is as great as the loss? Has he sworn falsely? You have ruined both him and yourself. Has he not? Even so, you have ruined both, by forcing him to break the commandment. Let us throw this disease out of the soul. At any rate, let us drive it out of the marketplace, out of our shops, out of our other workplaces; our profits will only be the greater. Do not imagine that the success of your worldly plans is made secure by breaking God’s laws.

“But he refuses to trust me.” That is what you say; and in fact I have sometimes heard some people say this:

“Unless I swear oaths without number, the man will not trust me.” Yes, and you have yourself to thank for that, because you are so free with your oaths. If it were not so, if on the contrary it were plain to everyone that you do not swear, believe me, you would be believed on a mere nod more readily than those who swallow oaths by the thousand. Look now: whom do you believe more readily, me, who do not swear, or those who do swear? “Yes, but you preside over us; you are the bishop.” Then suppose I prove to you that it is not only for that reason? Answer me truthfully, I beg you: if I were in the habit of swearing constantly, would my office do me any good in this? Not a bit. Do you see that it is not for this reason? And what do you gain at all? Answer me that. [ac]

Paul endured hunger. Then you too should choose to go hungry rather than break one of God’s commandments. Why are you so unbelieving? Here you are, ready to do and suffer anything for the sake of not swearing; and will he not reward you? Will he who day after day provides for those who swear and those who break their oaths alike hand you over to hunger, when you have obeyed him?

Let everyone see that of those who gather in this church not one is a swearer. Let us be known by this too, and not by our creed alone. Let us have this mark as well, to set us apart both from the pagans and from everyone else. Let us receive it as a seal from heaven, so that we may be seen everywhere to be the King’s own flock. Let us be known by our mouth and tongue, first of all, just as the barbarians are known by theirs: just as those who speak Greek are told apart from barbarians, so let us be known. Answer me this: the birds called parrots, how are they known to be parrots? Is it not by talking like people? Then let us be known by talking like the apostles, by talking like the angels. If anyone tells you to swear, tell him, “Christ has spoken, and I do not swear.”

This is enough to open the way for every virtue to come in. It is a gate into religion, a highway leading to the philosophy of godliness, a kind of training school. Let us keep these things, so that we may also obtain the blessings to come, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit together, be glory, power and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.