Homily 14 — Romans 8, verses 12 to 27

“Therefore, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if through the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” [a]

He has shown how great the reward of a spiritual life is: that it makes Christ live in us, that it gives life to our mortal bodies and gives them wings for heaven, and that it makes the road of virtue easier. Next, fittingly, he brings in an exhortation to match. “Therefore” we ought “not to live according to the flesh.” But that is not how he puts it. He words it far more strikingly and forcefully: “we are debtors to the Spirit.” For that is what the words “we are debtors, not to the flesh” imply.

And this is a point he proves everywhere: that what God has done for us is not a matter of debt, but of pure grace; but after this, what we do is no longer a freewill offering, but a matter of debt. So when he says, “You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men” (First Corinthians 7, verse 23); and when he writes, “You are not your own” (First Corinthians 6, verse 19); and again in another passage, where he calls these very things to their minds in these words, “If one died for all, then all died, so that they should no longer live for themselves” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 15) — it is to establish this that he says here too, “We are debtors.”

Then, since he had said we are “not” debtors “to the flesh,” he does not stop there, in case you should again take him to be speaking against the nature of the flesh, but goes on: “to live according to the flesh.” For there are many things we do owe it: giving it food, warmth and rest, medicine when it is sick, clothing, and a thousand other kinds of care. So that you would not suppose it is this service he wants to abolish when he says, “We are not debtors to the flesh,” he explains himself by adding, “to live according to the flesh.” His meaning is this: “The care I want to abolish is the kind that leads to sin. The care that heals the flesh I want it to have.” He shows this further on as well. For when he says, “Make no provision for the flesh,” he does not stop there, but adds, “to fulfill its cravings” (Romans 13, verse 14). And he gives us the same instruction here too. He means: let the flesh have attention, by all means, for we do owe it that; yet let us not live according to the flesh — that is, let us not make it the mistress of our life. It must follow, not lead. It is not the flesh that must direct our life; it must take its orders from the laws of the Spirit.

Having settled this point, then, and having proved that we are debtors to the Spirit, he goes on to show for what benefits we are in debt. He does not speak of past benefits — and this is the clearest proof of his good judgment — but of those still to come, though even the past ones would have been enough for the purpose. Still, he does not set them down here, or mention even those unspeakable blessings, but only the things to come. For a benefit given once and for all does not, as a rule, draw people on so strongly as one that is still hoped for and is yet to come.

After adding this, then, he first uses the pains and evils that come of living according to the flesh to put them in fear. He says, “For if you live according to the flesh, you will die,” pointing us to that death that never dies: punishment, and vengeance in hell. Or rather, if you look into it closely, a person like this is dead even in this present life, as we made clear to you in our last discourse.

“But if through the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” You see that it is not the substance of the body he is discussing, but the deeds of the flesh. For he does not say, “if through the Spirit you put to death” the substance “of the body,” but “the deeds” of it — and not all its deeds, only the evil ones. That is plain from what follows. For if you do this, he says, “you will live.” And how could that be possible if his words applied to all deeds? Seeing and hearing and speaking and walking are deeds of the body; and if we put these to death, we will be so far from living that we will have to suffer the punishment of a murderer. What sort of deeds, then, does he mean us to put to death?

Those that lean toward wickedness, those that chase after vice — and there is no other way to put these to death except through the Spirit. The other deeds you could put an end to by killing yourself, and that you have no right to do. But these you can put an end to by the Spirit alone. For if the Spirit is present, all the waves are laid flat, the passions cower beneath him, and nothing can raise itself up against us.

So you see how, as I said before, he grounds his exhortations to us on the things to come, and shows that we are debtors not only because of what has already been done. For the benefit of the Spirit is not only that he has set us free from our former sins, but that he makes us impregnable against sins to come, and counts us worthy of immortal life. Then, to state another reward as well, he goes on:

Verse 14: “For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God.”

Now this is again a much greater honor than the first. That is why he does not say merely, “As many as live by the Spirit of God,” but “as many as are led by the Spirit of God.” He wants to show that the Spirit should have the kind of control over our life that a helmsman has over a ship, or a charioteer over a pair of horses. And it is not only the body, but the soul itself as well, that he would place under reins of this kind. He will not have even the soul be its own master, but sets its authority too under the power of the Spirit.

For fear that, trusting in the gift of the font, they should grow careless about their way of life afterward, he is saying: even if you receive baptism, yet if you are not willing to be “led by the Spirit” from then on, you lose the dignity given to you and the high standing of your adoption. That is why he does not say, “As many as have received the Spirit,” but “as many as are led by the Spirit” — that is, as many as live this way all their life long — “these are sons of God.” [d]

Then, since this dignity had been given to the Jews as well — for Scripture says, “I said, You are gods, and all of you children of the Most High” (Psalm 82, verse 6); and again, “I have nourished and brought up children” (Isaiah 1, verse 2); and, “Israel is my firstborn” (Exodus 4, verse 22); and Paul too says, “to whom belongs the adoption” (Romans 9, verse 4) — he next shows how great the difference is between the later honor and the earlier. For though the names are the same, he means, the things are not the same. And he proves this clearly by drawing a comparison from the people who attained the honor, from what was given them, and from what was still to come. And first he shows what those of old were given.

What was that, then? “A spirit of slavery.” And so he goes on, in verse 15: “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery again to fear.”

Then, not stopping to name what stands opposite to slavery, that is, the spirit of freedom, he names something far greater, the spirit of adoption, and through it brings in the other at the same time, saying, “But you received the Spirit of adoption.”

This much is plain. But what the spirit of slavery might be is not so plain, and it needs to be made clearer. In fact, what he says is so far from clear that it is very puzzling, for the Jewish people did not receive the Spirit. What, then, does he mean here? It is the written letter he gives this name to. For it was spiritual; and so he called the law spiritual too, and the water from the rock, and the manna. “For they ate,” he says, “the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink” (First Corinthians 10, verses 3 and 4). And he gives the rock this name when he says, “For they drank from that spiritual rock that followed them.”

Now he calls them spiritual because all the rites carried out then were above nature, not because those who took part in them received the Spirit. And in what sense was that letter a letter of slavery? Set the whole arrangement of that time before your eyes, and you will see this clearly too. With them, rewards were close at hand and the payment followed at once, measured exactly to the deed, like a kind of daily ration handed out to household servants. Terrors in abundance reached their full force before their eyes. Their purifications concerned the body, and their self-control reached only as far as their actions. With us it is not so, for even the imagination and the conscience are cleansed. [f]

For he does not only say, “You shall not murder,” but, you shall not even be angry; and it is not only, “You shall not commit adultery,” but, you shall not even look with unchaste eyes. So our lasting virtue, and every single good deed we do, is to come not from fear of punishment here and now, but from desire for him. Nor does he promise a land flowing with milk and honey. He makes us joint heirs with the only Son, drawing us by every means away from the things of this present life, and promising to give above all what is worthy of people who have been made sons of God: nothing for the senses, nothing bodily, but all of it spiritual. So they, even if they had the name of sons, were no better than slaves; but we, having been made free, have received the adoption and are waiting for heaven.

He spoke with them through others who stood between, but with us he speaks himself. All that they did, they did under the push of fear; but spiritual people act out of longing and burning desire. The Jews showed this by overstepping the commandments. Like hired hands, and stubborn ones, they never stopped grumbling; but these do everything to please the Father. They blasphemed even when kindness was shown them; we give thanks even when we are put in danger. And if both of us need punishing when we sin, even here the difference is great. We are not brought back to our senses by being stoned and branded and maimed by the priests, as they were. It is enough for us to be shut out from our Father’s table and to stay out of sight for a set number of days.

With the Jews, too, the honor of adoption was a name only; but with us the reality came with it: the cleansing of baptism, the gift of the Spirit, the supply of all the other blessings. And there are many other points besides that show our noble birth and their low standing.

After hinting at all this, then, by speaking of the Spirit, and fear, and the adoption, he gives yet another proof that we have the Spirit of adoption. What is it? That “we cry, Abba, Father.” How great a thing this is, the initiated know,

for they are rightly commanded to use this word first in the prayer of the initiated. Someone may say: “What then? Did they not also call God Father? Do you not hear Moses, when he says, ‘You forsook the God who begot you’ (Deuteronomy 32, verse 15, in the Greek Old Testament)? Do you not hear Malachi reproaching them, and saying that ‘one God formed you,’ and there is ‘one Father of you all’ (Malachi 2, verse 10, in the Greek Old Testament)?” [i]

Still, even if these words and others like them are used, we do not find them anywhere calling God by that name, or praying in that language. But all of us, priests and lay people, rulers and ruled, are commanded to pray in these words. This is the first thing we say aloud after those wonderful birth pangs, that strange and unheard-of kind of labor. If in some other instances they called him Father, they did it on their own impulse; but those who live under grace do it because the working of the Spirit moves them.

For there is a Spirit of wisdom, by which those who were unwise became wise, and this shows itself in their teaching; and there is a Spirit of power, by which the weak raised the dead and drove out demons; and a Spirit of the gift of healing, a Spirit of prophecy, and a Spirit of tongues. In the same way there is also a Spirit of adoption. And as we recognize the Spirit of prophecy because the one who has it foretells what is to come, not speaking from his own mind but moved by grace, so it is with the Spirit of adoption: the one who has been given it calls God Father because the Spirit moves him.

Wanting to show that this is a truly genuine sonship, he also used the Hebrew language. He does not say only “Father,” but “Abba, Father,” which is the word true-born children use especially to their fathers. So, having set out the difference that came from their way of life, the difference that came from the grace that had been given, and the difference that came from freedom, he brings forward another proof of the superiority that goes with this adoption. What is it? [k]

Verse 16: “The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”

For he says: “It is not from the words alone that I make my claim, but from the cause that gives birth to the words; for it is because the Spirit prompts us that we speak this way.” He has put this in plainer words in another passage: “God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father” (Galatians 4, verse 6). And what does “Spirit bears witness with spirit” mean? The Comforter, he means, bears witness with the gift that has been given to us. For the voice is not the gift’s alone; it belongs also to the Comforter who gave the gift, since he himself taught us through the gift to speak this way.

And when “the Spirit bears witness,” what room is left for doubt? If it were a man, or an angel, or an archangel, or any other such power that promised this, there might be some reason for doubting. But when it is the highest Being who gives this gift, and who “bears witness” by the very words he told us to use in prayer, who would doubt our dignity any longer? Even when the emperor chooses someone for an honor and proclaims it in everyone’s hearing, no one dares to contradict it.

Verse 17: “And if children, then heirs.” [m]

See how he builds up the gift little by little. It is possible to be children and yet not become heirs, for by no means all children are heirs; so he adds this as well, that we are heirs.

But the Jews, besides not having the same adoption as we have, were also thrown out of the inheritance. For “He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will lease the vineyard to other tenant farmers” (Matthew 21, verse 41). And before this he said that “many will come from the east and from the west, and will sit down with Abraham, but the children of the kingdom will be thrown out” (Matthew 8, verses 11 and 12). But even here Paul does not stop; he sets down something greater still. What is that? That we are heirs of God. So he adds, “heirs of God.” And what is more still, that we are not simply heirs, but “joint heirs with Christ.” See how eager he is to bring us close to the Master.

For since not all children are heirs, he shows that we are both children and heirs. Next, since not all heirs inherit anything great, he shows that we have this point too, for we are heirs of God. Again, since it would be possible to be God’s heir and yet in no sense a “joint heir with” the only Son, he shows that we have this as well.

And notice his wisdom. When he was saying what would become of those who “live according to the flesh” — that they “will die” — he packed the unpleasant part into a small space. But when he comes to the more comforting part, he lets his words run out into wide open ground, and spreads himself on the repayment of rewards, pointing out that the gifts are many and great. For if even being a child was a grace beyond words, just think how great a thing it is to be an heir! And if that is great, it is much greater still to be a “joint heir.”

Then, to show that the gift is not of grace alone, and at the same time to make what he says believable, he goes on: “If indeed we suffer with him, so that we may also be glorified with him.” If, he means, we share with him in what is painful, much more will we share in what is good. For if he gave such blessings to people who had done no good at all, how, when he sees them toiling and suffering so much, could he do anything but give them a greater reward?

So, having shown that the thing was a matter of repayment — to make people believe what was said and keep anyone from doubting — he shows further that it also has the character of a gift. The first he showed so that what was said might be believed even by those who doubted, and so that those who received it would not feel ashamed, as if they were forever getting salvation for nothing. The second he showed so that you might see that God’s rewards far exceed the toils. The first he showed in the words, “If indeed we suffer with him, so that we may also be glorified with him.” The second, in going on to add:

Verse 18: “The sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that will be revealed in us.” [n]

In what came before, he asked the spiritual man to correct his habits, where he says, “You are not debtors, to live according to the flesh” — for such a man should rise above craving, anger, money, empty glory, and envy. But here, having reminded them of the whole gift, both what has been given and what is to come, having lifted him high with hopes, set him close to Christ, and shown him to be a joint heir with the only Son, he now leads him out with confidence even to face dangers. For getting the better of the evil passions within us is not the same thing as holding up under trials, floggings, famine, plunder, bonds, chains, and executions. These last required a far more noble and vigorous spirit.

And notice how he both calms and stirs the spirit of those in the contest. After showing that the rewards were greater than the labors, he urges them on to greater effort, and yet he will not let them grow proud, since they are still outdone by the crowns given in return.

In another passage he says, “For our light affliction, which lasts only for a moment, is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all measure” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 17); for he was speaking there to people of a deeper sort. Here, however, he does not grant that the afflictions were light. Still, he mixes comfort in with them by setting against them the good things to come, in the words, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared.” And he does not say, with the rest that is to come, but something much greater: “with the glory that is to come.” For it does not follow that where there is rest there is glory; but it does follow that where there is glory there is rest. [o]

Then, having said that it is to come, he shows that it already exists. For he does not say, the glory that is to be, but the glory “that will be revealed in us,” as though it already exists but is not yet revealed. As he said in another place in plainer words, “Our life is hidden with Christ in God.” So take heart about it. It has already been prepared, and it is waiting for your labors. But if it troubles you that it is still to come, let this very thing make you glad instead. For it is because it is so great, beyond words, and above our present condition, that it is stored up there.

And so it is not for nothing that he has put “the sufferings of this present time.” He speaks so as to show that the other life has the advantage not only in kind but also in amount. For these sufferings, whatever they are, are tied to our present life; but the blessings to come stretch out over endless ages. And since he had no way of describing these in detail, or of setting them before us in words, he names them from what seems to be the thing we desire most — “glory.” For glory seems to be the peak of blessings and the sum of them.

And to spur the hearer on in yet another way, he lifts his speech higher by speaking of the creation. By what he says next he gains two points, contempt for present things and desire for the things to come; and a third besides these, or rather the first: he shows how God cares for the human race, and in what honor he holds our nature. Besides this, with this one teaching he throws down all the doctrines the philosophers had made up for themselves about this world, like a spider’s web or a little mound a child piles up. But so that these things may be seen in a clearer light, let us hear the apostle’s own words.

Verses 19 and 20: “For the eager expectation of the creation waits,” he says, “for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was made subject to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope.” [p]

The meaning is something like this. The creation itself is in the middle of its birth pains, waiting and looking for the good things we have just been speaking of. For “eager expectation” means expecting intensely. And so his language becomes more forceful, and he personifies this whole world, as the prophets also do when they bring in the floods clapping their hands, and the little hills leaping, and the mountains skipping — not so that we should imagine them alive or credit them with any power of reasoning, but so that we may learn how great the blessings are, so great that they reach even to things without sense.

They often do the very same thing with sorrowful things too: they bring in the vine mourning, and the wine too, and the mountains, and the paneled ceilings of the temple wailing — and here too it is so that we may understand how extreme the evils are. It is in imitation of these, then, that the apostle makes the creation a living person here and says that it groans and is in labor. Not that he heard any groan carried up to him from the earth and the heavens; he wanted to show how exceedingly great the coming good things are, and the longing to be free of the evils that now fill everything.

“For the creation was made subject to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it.” What does “the creation was made subject to futility” mean? That it became corruptible. For what cause, and on what account? On your account, O man. For since you took on a body that is mortal and subject to suffering, the earth too received a curse and brought forth thorns and thistles.

But hear from the prophet that the heavens, after growing old together with the earth, are to change afterward to a better lot. He says, “You, O Lord, in the beginning founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; and they will all grow old like a garment, and like a cloak you will fold them up, and they will be changed” (Psalm 102, verses 25 and 26). Isaiah too declares the same when he says, “Look up to the heaven above, and on the earth beneath; for the heavens are like a firmament of smoke, and the earth will grow old like a garment, and those who live in it will perish in the same way” (Isaiah 51, verse 6).

Now you see in what sense the creation is “in bondage to futility,” and how it is to be set free from its ruined state. For the one says, “You will fold them up like a garment, and they will be changed”; and Isaiah says, “and those who live in it will perish in the same way” — not, of course, meaning an utter perishing. For those who live in it, that is, humankind, do not undergo that kind of perishing either, but a temporary one, and through it they are changed into an incorruptible state (First Corinthians 15, verse 53); and so, then, will the creation be. All this he showed in passing by saying “in the same way” (Second Peter 3, verse 13), which Paul also says further on. For the present, however, he speaks about the bondage itself, shows why it came about, and names us as its cause. What then?

Was it harshly treated for someone else’s sake? By no means; it was made for my sake. What wrong, then, is done to it, when it was made for my sake and suffers these things for my correction? Or rather, there is no need to raise the question of right and wrong at all where things without soul or feeling are concerned. But Paul, since he had made it a living person, uses none of the arguments I have mentioned, but another kind of language, because he wanted to give the hearer the greatest possible comfort. And what kind is this? This is what he means: “What do you have to say? It was badly treated for your sake and became corruptible, yet no wrong has been done to it; for it will be incorruptible again for your sake.” This, then, is the meaning of “in hope.” And when he says that it was made subject “not willingly,” he does not say so to show that it has judgment, but so that you may learn that the whole thing is brought about by Christ’s care and is no achievement of its own. And now tell me: in what hope?

Verse 21: “That the creation itself also will be set free from the bondage of corruption.” [u]

Now what is this creation? Not you alone, but also what is below you and has no share in reason or sense: this too will share in your blessings. For “it will be set free,” he says, “from the bondage of corruption”; that is, it will no longer be corruptible, but will keep pace with the beauty given to your body. Just as when your body became corruptible the creation became corruptible too, so now, when the body is made incorruptible, the creation also will follow it. And to show this he goes on: “into the glorious freedom of the children of God” — that is, because of their freedom.

For just as a nurse who is bringing up a king’s child shares in the good things along with him when he has come into his father’s power, so it is with the creation too, he means. You see how in every respect the human being comes first, and that it is for his sake that everything is made. See how he comforts the one who is struggling, and shows God’s unspeakable love for humankind. For he would say: “Why do you fret at your trials? You are suffering for your own sake; the creation, for yours.” And he does not only comfort; he also shows that what he says can be trusted. For if the creation, which was made entirely for you, is “in hope,” much more ought you to be, since it is through you that the creation is to come to enjoy those good things. So too, when a son is about to make his appearance on coming into a high rank, people dress even the servants in brighter clothes, for the son’s glory. So God too will clothe the creation with incorruption for the glorious freedom of the children.

Verse 22: “For we know that the whole creation groans and labors in birth pains together until now.” [v]

Notice how he shames the hearer, all but saying: “Do not be worse than the creation, and do not take pleasure in resting in the things of the present.” We ought not only to refuse to cling to them, but even to groan that our departure from here is delayed. For if the creation does this, much more ought you to do so, honored as you are with reason. But since this was not yet enough to force their attention, he goes on.

Verse 23: “And not only they, but we ourselves also, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves.” That is, we who have had a taste of the things to come. For even if someone were as hard as stone, he means, what has already been given is enough to raise him up, to draw him away from the things of the present, and to give him wings toward the things to come. It does this in two ways: by the greatness of what is given, and by the fact that, great and many as these gifts are, they are only firstfruits. For if the firstfruits are so great that by them we are freed even from our sins and attain righteousness and holiness, and that the believers of that time drove out demons and raised the dead by their shadow (Acts 5, verse 15) or their garments (Acts 19, verse 12), think how great the whole must be! And if the creation, though it has no mind or reason and knows nothing of these things, still groans, much more should we.

Next, so that he would not give the heretics a handle, or seem to be disparaging our present world, he says that we groan not because we find fault with the present order of things, but because we long for those greater things. He shows this by the words, “waiting for the adoption.” What are you saying? Let me hear. At every turn you insisted, and cried aloud, that we have already been made sons; and now do you place this good among the things hoped for, writing that we must wait for it? It is to set this right with what follows that he says, “namely, the redemption of our body.” That is, the perfect glory.

For at present our lot is uncertain up to our last breath, since many of us who were sons have become dogs and captives. But if we die with a good hope, then the gift cannot be moved, and it is clearer and greater, with no change left to fear from death or sin. Then, therefore, the grace will be secure, when our body is freed from death and its countless sufferings. For this is full redemption: not simply a redemption, but one such that we will never again return to our former captivity.

So that you would not be perplexed at hearing so much about glory without gaining any clear knowledge of it, he partly sets the things to come before your eyes, showing you the change of your body, and along with it the change of the whole creation. He has put this in a clearer light in another passage, where he says, “Who will change our lowly body, so that it may be conformed to his glorious body” (Philippians 3, verse 21). And in another place again he writes, “But when this mortal has put on immortality, then the saying that is written will come to pass: Death is swallowed up in victory” (First Corinthians 15, verse 54). And to show that with the corruption of the body the whole order of the things of this life will also come to an end, he wrote elsewhere again, “For the form of this world is passing away” (First Corinthians 7, verse 31).

Verse 24: “For we are saved by hope.” [z]

He had dwelt on the promise of the things to come, and this seemed to distress the weaker hearer, if the blessings are all a matter of hope. He had already proved that they are surer than things present and visible, had spoken at length about the gifts already given, and had shown that we have received the firstfruits of those good things. So, lest we should look for our all in this world and betray the nobility that faith gives us, he says, “For we were saved by hope.”

And this is roughly what he means: we are not to look for everything in this life, but to have hope as well. For this is the only gift we brought to God: believing him that what he promised will come. It was by this way alone that we were saved. If, then, we lose this hope, we have lost all that we ourselves contributed. For I put this question to you, he would say: “Were you not liable for countless sins? Were you not in despair? Were you not under sentence? Had not everyone given up hope of your salvation? What, then, saved you? Your hoping in God alone, and trusting him about his promises and gifts; you had nothing else to bring. If it was this, then, that saved you, hold on to it now as well. For what brought you such great blessings will certainly not deceive you about what is to come. It found you dead, ruined, a prisoner and an enemy, and made you a friend, a son, a free man, righteous and a joint heir, and it bestowed things so great that no one had ever even expected them. After such generosity and such devotion, how will it betray you in what follows?”

Do not say to me, “Hopes again! Expectations again! Faith again!” For this is the way you were saved from the beginning, and this was the only dowry you brought to the Bridegroom. Hold on to it, then, and guard it. For if you demand to have everything in this world, you have lost that good deed of your own through which you became radiant. That is why he goes on to say, “But hope that is seen is not hope; for why does anyone still hope for what he sees?”

Verse 25: “But if we hope for what we do not see, then we wait for it with endurance.” [aa]

That is, if you are to look for everything in this world, what need is there for hope? What, then, is hope? It is confidence about the things to come. What great demand, then, does God make of you, when he himself gives you blessings entire from his own stores? He asks only one thing of you, hope, so that you too may have something of your own to contribute toward your salvation. He hints at this in what follows: “But if we hope for what we do not see, then we wait for it with endurance.” Just as God crowns the one who undergoes labors and hardships and countless toils, so he crowns the one who hopes. For the word “endurance” belongs to hard work and long holding out; yet even this he has granted to the one who hopes, so that he might comfort the weary soul. And then, to show that for this light task we have abundant help, he goes on:

Verse 26: “Likewise the Spirit also helps our weaknesses.” [ab]

For the one part, endurance, is your own; but the other comes from what the Spirit supplies. He also anoints you for this hope, and through it lightens your labors in turn. Then, so that you might know that this grace stands by you not only in your labors and dangers, but works with you even in what seem the easiest things, and on every occasion does its part as your ally, he goes on to say, “For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought.”

He said this to show the Spirit’s great concern for us, and also to teach them not to be sure that the things which appear desirable to human reasoning really are so. For it was likely that, when they were being flogged and driven out and suffering wrongs without number, they would look for relief, ask God for this favor, and think it was good for them. Do not by any means, he says, suppose that what seem blessings to you really are so. For we need the Spirit’s help even for this, so feeble is man, and so much a nothing by himself. That is why he says, “For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought.”

So that the learner would not feel ashamed of his ignorance, he does not say “you do not know,” but “we do not know.” And that he did not say this merely to appear modest, he shows plainly from other passages. For he prayed unceasingly to see Rome, yet he did not obtain it at once, when he wished. And about “the thorn” given him “in the flesh” (Second Corinthians 12, verse 8) — that is, the dangers — he often begged God, and was entirely unsuccessful. So too was Moses, who in the Old Testament prays to see Palestine (Deuteronomy 3, verse 26), and Jeremiah when he pleaded for the Jews (Jeremiah 15, verse 1), and Abraham when he interceded for the people of Sodom.

“But the Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.” This statement is not clear, because many of the wonders that took place then have ceased. So I must tell you how things stood at that time, and in this way the rest of the subject will become clear. How, then, did things stand at that time? In those days God gave all who were baptized certain excellent gifts, and these were called “spirits.” For “the spirits of the prophets,” it says, “are subject to the prophets” (First Corinthians 14, verse 32). One had the gift of prophecy and foretold things to come; another, of wisdom, and taught the many; another, of healings, and cured the sick; another, of miracles, and raised the dead; another, of tongues, and spoke different languages.

Along with all these there was also a gift of prayer, which was also called a spirit, and the one who had it prayed for all the people. For since we are ignorant of much that is good for us and ask for things that are not good for us, the gift of prayer came upon some one person in those days, and he was the one appointed to ask, on behalf of all, for what was good for the whole church alike, and to teach the rest.

“Spirit,” then, is the name he gives here to a grace of this kind, and to the soul that receives the grace, intercedes with God, and groans. For the one who was counted worthy of such a grace stood with deep heartfelt sorrow and, with many groanings of the mind, fell down before God and asked for what was good for all. And the deacon of our own day is a figure of this when he offers up the prayers for the people. This, then, is what Paul means when he says, “the Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.” [ae]

Verse 27: “But he who searches the hearts.” You see that it is not about the Comforter that he is speaking, but about the spiritual heart. For if this were not so, he ought to have said, “He who searches” the Spirit. But so that you may learn that the words are meant of a spiritual man, who has the gift of prayer, he goes on: “And he who searches the hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit” — that is, of the spiritual man.

“Because he makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” [af]

He does not mean that he informs God as though God did not know. This happens so that we may learn to pray for the right things and to ask of God what pleases him; for this is what “according to God” means. So this was done to comfort those who came to him and to give them excellent instruction. For the one who supplied the gifts, and gave blessings without number besides, was the Comforter. That is why it says, “All these are worked by one and the same Spirit” (First Corinthians 12, verse 11). And it is for our instruction that this takes place, and to show the Spirit’s love, that he stoops down even to this. And it is because of this that the one who prays is heard: the prayer is made “according to the will of God.”

You see from how many sides he teaches them the love shown to them and the honor done to them. And what is there that God has not done for us? He made the world corruptible for us, and for us incorruptible again. He let his prophets be mistreated for our sake, sent them into captivity for us, let them fall into the furnace and suffer countless evils. Indeed, he made them prophets for us, and the apostles too he made for us. He gave up his only Son for us; he punishes the devil for us; he has seated us at the right hand; he was reproached for us. “For the reproaches of those who reproached you,” it says, “fell on me” (Psalm 69, verse 9).

And still, when we draw back after such great favor, he does not leave us, but entreats us again, and for our sake stirs up others to entreat on our behalf, so that he may show us favor. So it was with Moses. He says to him, “Let me alone, that I may blot them out” (Exodus 32, verse 10), to drive him to plead on their behalf. And now he does the same thing; that is why he gave the gift of prayer. But he does this not because he himself needs to be entreated, but so that we might not grow careless from being saved without any effort. For this reason he often says that it is for David’s sake, and for this person’s or that one’s, that he is reconciled with them — to establish this very thing again, that the reconciliation might be made with all due form. Yet he would have seemed to show more love for humankind if he had told them himself, and not through this or that prophet, that he had ceased to be angry. But the reason he did not keep to that way was that this ground of reconciliation might not become an occasion for carelessness.

That is why he also said to Jeremiah, “Do not pray for this people, for I will not hear you” (Jeremiah 11, verse 14) — not because he wanted to stop his praying (for he earnestly longs for our salvation), but to frighten them. And the prophet, seeing this, did not stop praying. And so that you may see that he said this not out of a wish to turn him away from it, but to shame them, hear what it says: “Do you not see what these people are doing?” (Ezekiel 8, verse 6). [ai]

And when he says to the city, “Though you wash yourself with lye and use much soap, still you are stained before me” (Jeremiah 2, verse 22), he does not speak this way to cast them into despair, but to rouse them to repentance. Just as with the Ninevites, by pronouncing the sentence without condition and holding out no good hope, he frightened them all the more and led them to repentance, so he does here too — both to rouse them and to make the prophet more respected, so that in this way at least they might listen to him.

Then, since they persisted in an incurable madness and would not come to their senses even when the rest were carried away, he first urges them to remain there. But when they did not keep to this, but deserted to Egypt, he allowed them this, but asked them not to desert to ungodliness as well as to Egypt (Jeremiah 44, verse 8). And when they would not comply in this either, he sent the prophet along with them, so that they might not after all be utterly shipwrecked (Jeremiah 44, verse 28). For since they did not follow him when he called, he next follows them, to discipline them and keep them from being swept further into wickedness. He is like a father full of affection with a child who meets every kind of treatment with the same sulkiness: he takes him everywhere with him and follows him about. This was why he sent not only Jeremiah into Egypt but also Ezekiel into Babylon; and they did not refuse to go.

For when the prophets saw that their Master loved the people deeply, they went on loving them too. It was much as if a good-hearted servant took pity on an unmanageable son when he saw the father grieving and mourning over him. And what did they not suffer for the people? They were sawn in two, they were driven out, they were insulted, they were stoned, they endured countless wrongs. And after all this they would run back to them. [am]

Samuel, for instance, never stopped mourning for Saul (First Samuel 15, verse 35), though Saul had insulted him shamefully and wronged him beyond repair. Still, he held none of these things against him. And Jeremiah wrote his Lamentations for the Jewish people. When the Persian general gave him leave to live safely and in complete freedom wherever he pleased, he preferred the affliction of the people and their hard captivity in a foreign land to living at home (Jeremiah 40, verse 5). So too Moses left the palace and the life that went with it, and hurried to be among their calamities. And Daniel went twenty days in a row without food, wearing himself down with the strictest fast, so that he might reconcile God to them (Daniel 10, verse 2).

The three young men too, in the furnace and in so fierce a fire, offered up a prayer for them. It was not for themselves that they were grieving, since they had been saved; but they judged that this was the moment for the greatest boldness of speech, and so they prayed on the people’s behalf. That is why they said, “With a crushed heart and a humble spirit may we be accepted” (Song of the Three Young Men, verse 16). For them Joshua also tore his clothes (Joshua 7, verse 6). For them Ezekiel too wailed and lamented when he saw them cut down (Ezekiel 9, verse 8). And Jeremiah said, “Let me alone; I will weep bitterly” (Isaiah 22, verse 4). And before this, when he did not dare to pray openly for their sad condition to be taken away, he asked for some limit to be set to it, saying, “How long, O Lord?” (Isaiah 6, verse 11). For the whole race of the saints is full of tender affection.

That is why Paul too says, “Put on, then, as the chosen saints of God, tender-hearted mercy, kindness, humility” (Colossians 3, verse 12). Notice how exact the word is, and how he wants us to be merciful all the time. He does not simply say “show mercy,” but “put it on,” so that mercy may always be with us, as our clothing always is. And he does not say merely “mercy,” but “tender-hearted mercy,” so that we may imitate the natural affection that relatives have for one another.

But we do exactly the opposite. If anyone comes to ask us for a single penny, we insult them, abuse them, call them frauds. Do you not shudder, my friend, and blush, to call a man a fraud over bread? Why, even supposing he is putting on an act, he deserves pity for it, because hunger presses him so hard that he plays such a part. This is a reproach to our cruelty. Since we did not have the heart to give readily, they are forced to try a great many tricks, to get around our inhumanity and soften our harshness. Now if it were gold and silver he was asking of you, there would be some reason for your suspicion. But if it is the food he needs that he comes to you for, why play the wise man at the wrong moment, and demand so exact an account of him, accusing him of idleness and laziness? If we must talk this way, it is not others we should be addressing, but ourselves.

So when you go to God to ask forgiveness for your sins, call these words to mind, and you will know that you deserve to have them said to you by God far more than the poor man deserves them from you. And yet God has never said such words to you as these: “Get away from me, you fraud! You are always coming to church and hearing my laws, but once you are outside you put gold, and your cravings, and your friendships — anything at all — above my commandments. Now you make yourself humble, but when your prayers are over you are brazen, and cruel, and inhuman. Go away, then, and never come to me again.” This, and more than this, we deserve to have said to us. But he has never reproached us in any such way. He is patient, and does everything on his own part, and gives us more than we ask.

Keeping this in mind, then, let us relieve the poverty of those who beg from us, and if they do deceive us, let us not be too exact about it. For the salvation we ourselves need is just that kind: one that comes with pardon, with love for humankind, with great mercy. It is not possible — it certainly is not — that we should ever be saved if our lives were examined strictly; we would have to be punished and ruined altogether. So let us not be harsh judges of others, or we too will have a strict account demanded of us. For we have sins too great for any excuse. And so let us show more mercy to those who have committed sins that have no excuse, so that we too may store up the same mercy for ourselves in advance.

And yet, however generous we may be, we will never be able to show others as much kindness as we ourselves need from God, who loves humankind. How then is it anything but monstrous, when we need so much ourselves, to be so exact with our fellow servants and to do all we can against ourselves? In this way you do not so much prove him unworthy of your generosity as prove yourself unworthy of God’s love for humankind. For whoever deals too exactly with his fellow servant will all the more surely meet the same treatment at God’s hand. Let us not speak against ourselves. Even if they come out of idleness or out of willfulness, let us give. For we too commit many sins through willfulness — or rather, we commit them all through willfulness — and yet God does not call us to punishment at once. He gives us a set time for repentance, nourishing us day by day, training us, teaching us, supplying us with everything else, so that we too may imitate this mercy of his.

So let us put down this cruelty and drive out this savage spirit, since by doing so we benefit ourselves more than others. To them we give money and bread and clothing; but for ourselves we are storing up in advance a very great glory, a glory there is no putting into words.

For we receive our bodies back again incorruptible, and we are glorified together with Christ and reign together with him. How great this is we will see from what follows — or rather, there is no way to make us see it clearly now. But I will start from the blessings we have now, so as to get from them at least some faint notion of it, and I will try, as far as I can, to set before you what I have been speaking of. [av]

Tell me, then: suppose you had grown old and were living in poverty, and someone suddenly promised to make you young, to bring you to the very prime of life, to make you very strong and outstandingly handsome, and to give you the kingdom of the whole earth for a thousand years, a kingdom enjoying the deepest peace. What would you not choose to do and to suffer to gain this promise? Well then, Christ promises not this, but much more than this. The distance between old age and youth is not to be compared with the difference between corruption and incorruption, nor the distance between a kingdom and poverty with the difference between the present glory and the glory to come. The difference is that between dreams and reality.

Or rather, I have still said nothing to the point, since no language can set before you how great the difference is between the things to come and the things present. As for time, there is no room even for the idea of a comparison. How could anyone compare our present state with a life that has no limit? As for the peace, it is as far removed from any peace here as peace is from war. And as for the incorruption, it is as much better as a clear pearl is than a clod of clay. Or rather, say as great a thing as you can, and nothing will set it before you. Even if I were to compare the beauty of our bodies then to the light of a sunbeam, or to the brightest lightning, I would still not be saying anything worthy of that brilliance. For things like these, what sum of money would not be worth giving up?

What bodies — or rather, what souls — would not be worth giving up? [aw]

As things are, if someone were to lead you into the palace and, in front of everyone, give you the chance to talk with the king, and seat you at his table, and have you share his meal, you would call yourself the happiest of men. But when you are to go up to heaven, and stand beside the King of the universe himself, and rival the angels in brightness, and enjoy that glory beyond words — do you hesitate over whether you ought to give up money? Why, if you had to lay down life itself, you ought to leap and exult and soar on wings of delight.

But you, to get a public office — really a chance to plunder, for I cannot call a thing like this a gain — stake everything you have, and borrow from others, and, if need be, pawn your wife and children too without a second thought. Yet when the kingdom of heaven is set before you, an office in which no one will ever replace you, and God bids you take not a piece of some corner of the earth but the whole of heaven entire, you hesitate, and hang back, and gape after money? Have you forgotten that if the parts of heaven we can see are so fair and delightful, the upper heaven, the heaven of heavens, must be far more so?

We have as yet no way to see this with our bodily eyes. So climb up in your thought, and standing above this heaven, look up to the heaven beyond it: into that height without limit, into that light charged with awe, into the crowds of the angels, into the endless ranks of the archangels, into the rest of the bodiless powers. Then come back down from above and take hold again of the image of it that we have here.

Sketch out for yourself the state of one of our kings: his men in golden armor, his pairs of white mules proudly decked with gold, his chariots set with jewels and their snow-white cushions, the spangles fluttering around the chariot, the dragons worked into the silk hangings, the shields with their golden bosses and the straps running up from the bosses to the rims through so many gems, and the horses with their gilded trappings and golden bits. But when we see the king, we at once lose sight of all these. He alone turns our eyes to himself — his purple robe, his diadem, his throne, his clasp, his shoes, all the splendor of his appearance.

When you have carefully gathered all these things together, then move your thoughts again from them to the things above, and to that awesome day on which Christ is coming. For then you will not see pairs of mules, or golden chariots, or dragons and shields, but things full of a mighty awe, things that strike such amazement that even the bodiless powers are astonished.

For “the powers of the heavens,” he says, “will be shaken” (Matthew 24, verse 29). Then the whole of heaven is thrown open, and the gates of those vaults swing wide, and the only Son of God comes down — not with twenty, not with a hundred men as his bodyguard, but with thousands, tens of thousands of angels and archangels, cherubim and seraphim, and other powers. Everything will be filled with fear and trembling, while the earth bursts open, and all the people who were ever born, from Adam’s birth up to that day, rise from the earth, and all are caught up (First Thessalonians 4, verse 17). Then he himself appears in such great glory that the sun and the moon and every light there is are thrown into shadow, outshone by that radiance. [ay]

What language can set before us that blessedness, that brightness, that glory? Alas, my soul! Weeping comes over me, and deep groaning, as I think what good things we have fallen from, what blessedness we are shut out from. For shut out we are — I am still speaking of my own case — unless we do some great and astonishing work. So do not speak to me of hell now. More grievous than any hell is the fall from that glory, and worse than countless punishments is being shut out from that lot.

Yet we still gape after this present world, and take no thought of the devil’s cunning. By little things he robs us of those great ones. He gives us clay so as to snatch gold from us — or rather, to snatch heaven from us. He shows us a shadow so as to rob us of the reality, and puts phantoms before us in dreams — for that is what the wealth of this world is — so that at daybreak he may show us to be the poorest of men. Taking these things to heart, late as it is, let us flee from this trickery and cross over to the side of the things to come. For we cannot say we did not know how exposed to mishap this present life is, since every day events din into our ears, louder than a trumpet, the worthlessness, the absurdity, the shamefulness, the dangers and the pitfalls of the world as it now is.

What defense, then, will we have to offer for chasing so eagerly after things so exposed to risk and so laden with shame, while we leave behind things that never fail, things that would make us glorious and bright, and give our whole selves up to slavery to money? For slavery to these things is worse than any bondage. Those who have been counted worthy to win their freedom from it know this. So that you too may taste this good freedom, burst the chains, leap out of the snare. Let there be no gold lying stored in your houses; let your treasure be what is more precious than millions in money: almsgiving and kindness to others. For this gives us boldness before God, while the other covers us with deep shame and makes the devil blow hard against us.

Why, then, arm your enemy and make him stronger? Arm your right hand against him. Move all the splendor of your house into your soul, and store away all your fortune in your mind, and instead of a strongbox and a house, let heaven keep your gold. And let us put all our property around our own selves, for we are far better than walls and more dignified than pavements. Why, then, do we neglect our own selves and spend all our attention on those things, which we can no longer reach once we are gone, and often cannot keep hold of even while we are here? We could have riches that would be found with us not in this life only but in that one too, and with the greatest ease.

For whoever carries his farms and house and gold about in his soul appears with all this wealth wherever he appears. “And how can this be done?” It can, and with the greatest ease. If you transfer them to heaven by the poor man’s hand, you will transfer them whole into your own soul. And if death should come on you afterward, no one will take them from you; you will depart to be rich in the next world too. This was the kind of treasure Tabitha had. That is why it was not her house that proclaimed her wealth — not the walls, or the stones, or the pillars — but the bodies of widows she had clothed, and the tears they shed, and death that ran away, and life that came back again. Let us too make ourselves treasures like these; let us build ourselves houses like these. [ba]

In this way we will have God as our fellow worker, and we ourselves will be workers together with him. For he brought the poor from not being into being; and once they have been brought into life and being, you will keep them from perishing of hunger and other distress, by tending them and setting them on their feet, shoring up the temple of God on every side. What can equal this, both for usefulness and for glory?

Or if you have not yet gained any clear idea of the great distinction he gave you when he told you to relieve poverty, consider this point by yourself. If he had given you such power that you could set heaven up again if it were falling, would you not think it an honor far too great for you? Look now: he has counted you worthy of a greater honor. For he has entrusted you with repairing what in his eyes is more precious than the heavens. Of all visible things, there is nothing in God’s eyes equal to a human being. For him he made heaven and earth and sea, and he takes more pleasure in dwelling with him than in heaven.

And yet we, though we know this, give no attention or forethought to the temples of God. We leave them neglected, and provide ourselves with splendid, spacious houses. This is why we lack all good things and are greater beggars than the poorest of the poor: we pride ourselves on these houses, which we cannot take with us when we leave this world, and leave alone those which we could carry away with us. For the bodies of the poor must rise again after they have fallen into decay, and God, who gave this charge, will bring them forth, and will praise those who took care of them, and will admire them, because when those bodies were on the point of falling into ruin — at one time from starvation, at another from nakedness and cold — they repaired them by every means in their power.

But even with all these praises set before us, we still dawdle and decline this honorable charge. Christ has nowhere to lodge; he goes about a stranger, naked and hungry. And you put up country houses, and baths, and terraces, and rooms without number, out of thoughtless empty glory; and to Christ you do not give even a share in a little hut, while for jackdaws and vultures you decorate upper rooms. What could be worse than such insanity? What more grievous than such madness? For it is madness in its last stage — or rather, there is no name to fit it, whatever name one uses.

Yet if we are so minded, it is possible to beat off this disease, stubborn as it is — and not only possible, but easy; and not merely easy, but easier to be rid of this plague than of the sufferings of the body, since the Physician is so much greater. So let us draw him to ourselves and call on him to help us in the attempt, and let us contribute our share — goodwill, I mean, and effort. He will ask for nothing more; if he finds only this, he will give everything that is his part. Let us then contribute our share, so that in this world we may enjoy true health and may attain to the good things to come, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.