Homily 24 — Romans 13, verse 11, to the end of the chapter

“And this, knowing the time: that now it is high time to wake up out of sleep.” [a]

He had given them the commands that were fitting, and now he spurs them on again to do good works, in view of what was pressing upon them. The time of judgment, he means, is at the doors. So he also wrote to the Corinthians, “The time that remains is short” (First Corinthians 7, verse 29). And to the Hebrews again: “For yet a little while, and he who is coming will come, and will not delay” (Hebrews 10, verse 37). But in those places he said these things to cheer people in trouble, and to comfort them in the labors of trials that came hard one after another. In the passage before us he does it to rouse those who are asleep; so these words are useful to us for both purposes. And what does he mean by “Now it is high time to wake up out of sleep”? That the resurrection is near, the dreadful judgment is near, and the day that burns like a furnace is near. From now on, then, we must be done with our listlessness;

“for now our salvation is nearer than when we believed.” You see how he now places the resurrection close beside them. As time moves on, he means, the span of our present life is wasting away, and the life to come is drawing nearer. If, then, you are prepared, and have done everything he has commanded, that day is salvation to you; but if the opposite, it is not. For the present, though, he urges them not with alarming arguments but with kindly ones, so as to loosen them in this way too from their attachment to the things of this present world.

It was likely enough that at the beginning of their efforts they would be most eager, since their desire was then in full vigor, but that as time went on, all their eagerness would wither away to nothing. So he says that they ought to do the reverse: not to grow slack as time goes on, but to be all the more full of vigor. For the nearer the King is, the more they ought to get themselves ready; the nearer the prize, the more wide awake they ought to be for the contest. Even runners do this: when they are near the end of the course and about to receive the prize, then they rouse themselves all the more. That is why he said, “Now our salvation is nearer than when we believed.”

Verse 12: “The night is far gone; the day is at hand.”

If, then, the night is ending and the day is drawing near, let us from now on do what belongs to the day, not to the night. This is what we do in the affairs of this life. When we see the night pressing on toward morning, and hear the swallow twittering, each of us wakes his neighbor, though it is still night. But as soon as the night is actually leaving, we hurry one another along, saying, “It is day now!” And we all set about the work of the day: we dress, leave our dreams behind, and shake off sleep completely, so that the day may find us ready, and we will not have to start getting up and stretching when the sunlight is already up. What we do there, let us do here too. Let us put away imaginings, get clear of the dreams of this present life, lay aside its deep slumber, and clothe ourselves in virtue for garments. It is to point to all this that he says, “Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light.”

Yes, for the day is calling us to line up for battle and to fight. But do not be afraid when you hear of battle lines and armor. With the armor you can see, putting it on is a heavy and hateful task. But here it is something to be desired, something worth praying for. For this is armor of light! So it will make you shine brighter than a sunbeam and give off a great gleam, and it sets you in safety: for it is armor, and it makes you glitter, for it is armor of light! What then? Is there no need for you to fight? Yes, you must fight, but not so as to be distressed and toil. For this is not really war, but a festival dance and a holiday: such is the nature of the armor, such the power of the Commander. And as a bridegroom comes out of his chamber with a joyful face, so does the one who is protected by this armor. For he is soldier and bridegroom at once. [b]

But when he says, “the day is at hand,” he does not let it be merely near; he puts it right beside us already. For he says, “Let us walk decently, as in the day.” It is day already. And the thing most people insist on in their exhortations, he also uses to draw them on: the sense of what is decent. For they cared a great deal about the good opinion of the crowd. And he does not say, “Walk,” but “Let us walk,” so as to keep the exhortation free of anything harsh, and to make the rebuke gentle.

“Not in carousing and drunkenness.” He does not forbid drinking, but drinking beyond measure; not enjoying wine, but taking it to excess. The next thing he states with the same measure, in the words, “Not in sexual excess and loose living.” Here too he does not forbid the union of man and woman, but sexual immorality. “Not in quarreling and jealousy.” It is the deadly passions, then, that he means to put out: sexual craving, that is, and anger. That is why he removes not only the passions themselves but even their sources. For nothing so kindles craving and inflames anger as drunkenness and sitting long over wine. That is why, after first saying, “not in carousing and drunkenness,” he went on, “not in sexual excess and loose living, not in quarreling and jealousy.” And even here he does not stop. After stripping us of these evil garments, listen to how he goes on to dress us, when he says, verse 14: “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” [d]

He no longer speaks of works; he rouses them to greater things. When he was speaking of vice, he mentioned its works; but when he speaks of virtue, he speaks not of works but of armor, to show that virtue puts the one who has it in complete safety and complete brightness. And even here he does not stop, but leads his discourse on to something greater, something far more awe-inspiring: he gives us the Lord himself for a garment, the King himself. For the one who is clothed with him has absolutely every virtue. In saying, “Put on,” he tells us to be wrapped around by him on every side. As he says in another place, “But if Christ is in you” (Romans 8, verse 10). And again, “That Christ may dwell in the inner man” (Ephesians 3, verses 16 and 17). For he wants our soul to be a dwelling for himself, and himself to be put around us like a garment, so that he may be everything to us, both from within and from without.

He is our fullness, for he is “the fullness of him who fills all in all” (Ephesians 1, verse 23). He is the way, and the husband, and the bridegroom, for “I have betrothed you to one husband, as a pure virgin” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 2). He is a root, and drink, and food, and life, for he says, “I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2, verse 20). He is apostle, and high priest, and teacher, and father, and brother, and fellow heir, and sharer of the tomb and the cross, for it says, “We were buried with him,” and “planted together in the likeness of his death” (Romans 6, verses 4 and 5). He is one who pleads with us: “For we are ambassadors on Christ’s behalf” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 20). He is an “advocate with the Father,” for “he also,” it says, “makes intercession for us” (Romans 8, verse 34). He is house and the one who lives in it, for he says, “The one who remains in me, and I in him” (John 15, verse 5). He is a friend, for “You are my friends” (John 15, verse 14). He is a foundation and a cornerstone. And we are his members, and his inheritance, and his building, and his branches, and his fellow workers. What is there that he does not want to be to us, when he makes us cling to him and fit onto him in every way? And this is the mark of one who loves beyond measure.

Be persuaded, then. Rouse yourself from sleep and put him on, and when you have done so, hand your flesh over to his bridle. This is what he hints at in saying, “And make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its cravings.” As he does not forbid drinking but drinking to excess, not marrying but loose living, so too he does not forbid making provision for the flesh either, but doing it “to gratify its cravings” — for instance, by going beyond what is necessary. That he does tell us to make provision for it, hear from what he says to Timothy: “Use a little wine for your stomach’s sake and your frequent illnesses” (First Timothy 5, verse 23). So here too he wants us to take care of it, but for health, not for self-indulgence. For it would no longer be making provision for the flesh if you were lighting up the flame and making the furnace fierce.

But so that you may form a clearer idea of what making provision for it “to gratify its cravings” is, and may avoid such provision, just call to mind the drunkards, the gluttons, those who pride themselves on their clothes, effeminate men, those who live a soft and slack life, and you will see what is meant. They do everything not to be healthy but to live in luxury and kindle desire. But you who have put on Christ, cut away all these things and look for one thing only: to keep your flesh healthy. Make provision for it to that extent and no further, and spend all your effort on caring for spiritual things. Then you will be able to rouse yourself out of this sleep, without being weighed down by these many desires.

For the present life is a sleep, and the things in it are no different from dreams. Those who are asleep often say and see things that are not sound, and so do we — or rather, we see much worse. The man who does or says something disgraceful in a dream is rid of his disgrace when he is rid of his sleep, and is not punished. But here it is not so: the shame, and the punishment too, are undying. Again, those who grow rich in a dream are shown, when day comes, to have been rich for nothing. But here the showing up often comes even before the day: before they depart to the other life, those dreams have flown away.

So let us shake off this evil sleep. If the day finds us sleeping, a deathless death will follow; and before that day we will be open to the attacks of all the enemies in this world, both men and demons, and if they want to destroy us, there is no one to stop them. If many were keeping watch, the danger would not be so great. But since there is perhaps one, or two, who have lit a lamp and are keeping watch, as it were, in the dead of night while everyone else sleeps, we need a great deal of wakefulness now, a great deal of guarding, to keep from falling into evils that cannot be remedied. [h]

Does it not seem to be broad daylight now? Do we not think that everyone is awake and sober? And yet (you may smile at what I say, but say it I will) we all seem like men sleeping and snoring in the dead of night. If a bodiless being could be seen, I would show you most people snoring, and the devil breaking through the walls, butchering us as we lie there, and carrying off the goods inside, doing it all without fear, as if in deep darkness. Or rather, even if it cannot be seen with the eyes, let us sketch it out in words and consider how many have been weighed down by evil desires, how many held down by the grievous evil of loose living, and have put out the light of the Spirit. That is why they see one thing instead of another, hear one thing instead of another, and take no notice of anything that is said to them here.

Or if I am wrong to say so, and you are awake, tell me what has been going on here today, if you have not heard it as though in a dream. I know that some can tell me — I do not say this of everyone. But you to whom my words apply, who have come here for nothing, tell me: which prophet, which apostle has been speaking to us today, and about what? You could not tell me. For you have been talking a great deal here, just as in a dream, without hearing the realities. And I would say this to the women too, since there is a great deal of sleeping among them. If only it were sleep! The one who is asleep says nothing, good or bad. But the one who is awake as you are lets out many words, even to the harm of his own head: counting his interest, adding up what his debtors owe him, recalling some shameless bargain, planting thorns thick in his own soul and not letting the seed make even the slightest progress.

But rouse yourself, pull these thorns up by the roots, and shake off the drunkenness, for this is the cause of the sleep. By drunkenness I mean not only the drunkenness that comes from wine, but the drunkenness that comes from worldly thoughts — and along with them, that from wine too.

I give this advice not to the rich only, but to the poor too, and especially to those who club together for shared parties. For this is not really enjoyment or relaxation, but punishment and vengeance. Enjoyment lies not in filthy talk but in serious conversation; in being satisfied, not in being ready to burst. But if you think this is pleasure, show me the pleasure by evening! You cannot. And so far I say nothing of the harm it leads to; for now I have only been speaking to you of the pleasure that withers away so quickly. No sooner is the party broken up than all that passed for fun has flown away. But when I come to mention the vomiting, and the headaches, and the countless illnesses, and the soul’s captivity, what do you have to say to all that? Just because we are poor, must we behave disgracefully too?

In saying this I do not forbid your meeting together or taking your suppers at a common table. I want to keep you from behaving disgracefully, because I want enjoyment to be really enjoyment, and not a punishment or a vengeance, or drunkenness and wild revelry. Let the pagans see that Christians know best how to enjoy themselves, and how to enjoy themselves in an orderly way. For it says, “Rejoice in the Lord with trembling” (Psalm 2, verse 11). How, then, can one rejoice? By singing hymns, saying prayers, bringing in psalms in place of those low songs. So Christ too will be at our table and will fill the whole feast with blessing, when you pray, when you sing spiritual songs, when you invite the poor to share what is set before you, when you put much good order and self-control in charge of the feast. So you will make the party a church, by praising the Master of all things with hymns in place of ill-timed shouts and cheers. And do not tell me that a different custom has taken hold; correct what is wrong. “For whether you eat,” it says, “or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (First Corinthians 10, verse 31).

From banquets of that kind come evil desires and impurities; wives fall into disrepute among you, and prostitutes into honor. From them come the overturning of families and evils beyond number; everything is turned upside down, and you have left the pure fountain and run to the channel of mud. That a prostitute’s body is mud, I need ask no one else but you yourself, who wallow in the mud: do you not feel ashamed of yourself, do you not think yourself unclean, once the sin is over? That is why I beg you: flee sexual immorality, and its mother, drunkenness.

Why sow where no reaping is possible — or rather, where, even if you do reap, the fruit brings you great shame? Even if a child is born, it disgraces you at once, and it has been wronged itself by being born through you illegitimate and of low birth. And though you leave it ever so much money, the son of a prostitute, like the son of a slave girl, is without honor at home, without honor in the city, without honor in a court of law. And you will be without honor too, both in your lifetime and when you are dead. Even after you have departed, the reminders of your disgrace remain. Why, then, bring disgrace on all of these?

Why sow where the ground makes it its business to destroy the fruit? Where there are many attempts at abortion? Where there is murder before birth? For you do not even let the prostitute remain a mere prostitute, but make her a murderer as well. You see how drunkenness leads to sexual immorality, sexual immorality to adultery, adultery to murder — or rather, to something even worse than murder. I have no name to give it, since it does not destroy what has been born, but prevents its being born. Why, then, do you abuse the gift of God, fight against his laws, pursue what is a curse as though it were a blessing, make the chamber of childbirth a chamber of murder, and arm the woman who was given for bearing children to kill? For to draw more money by being attractive and desirable to her lovers, she does not shrink even from this, and so heaps a great pile of fire on your head. Even if the daring deed is hers, you are the cause of it.

From this come idolatries too, since many, to make themselves attractive, devise incantations, and libations, and love potions, and countless other schemes. And still, after such great disgrace, after killings, after idolatries, the thing seems to many a matter of indifference — yes, even to many who have wives. So the heap of evils grows larger still. For then sorceries are used not on the womb that is prostituted but on the wronged wife, and there are plots without number, and the calling up of demons, and consulting of the dead, and daily wars, and fighting without truce, and jealousies nursed at home. That is why Paul too, after saying, “not in sexual excess and loose living,” goes on, “not in quarreling and jealousy,” knowing the wars that come from them: the overturning of families, the wrongs done to legitimate children, and all the other evils beyond number.

So that we may escape all these, let us put on Christ and be with him continually. This is what putting him on means: never being without him, always having him visible in us, through our holiness, through our moderation. So we say of friends that one is wrapped up in the other, meaning their great love and their constantly keeping together. For the one who is wrapped up in something seems to be the thing he is wrapped in. So let Christ be seen in every part of us. And how is he to be seen? If you do his deeds. And what did he do?

“The Son of Man,” he says, “has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9, verse 58). Aim at this yourself. He needed food, and he lived on barley loaves. He had to travel, and there were no horses or pack animals anywhere; he walked, so far that he was even tired. He needed sleep, and he lay “asleep on the cushion in the front part of the boat” (Mark 4, verse 38). When it was time to recline for a meal, he told them to lie down on the grass. His clothes were cheap, and often he stayed on his own, with no following behind him. And what he did on the cross, and what he did among the insults — in a word, all that he did — learn it thoroughly and imitate it. So you will have put on Christ, if you “make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its cravings.” [k]

For the thing has no real pleasure. These cravings breed others still keener, and you will never find satisfaction, but will only make yourself one great torment. One who is always thirsty, even if ten thousand springs are close by, gets no good from them, since he cannot put out the disease; so it is with the one who lives always in his cravings. But if you keep to what is necessary, you will never come to have this fear; all those things will go away, drunkenness as well as loose living. So eat only enough to break your hunger; wear only enough to be covered; and do not fussily adorn your body with clothes, or you will ruin it. You will make it more delicate and harm its health, weakening it with so much softness. So that you may have it as a fit vehicle for the soul — so that the helmsman may sit securely at the rudder, and the soldier handle his weapons with ease — you must make all its parts fit well together.

For it is not having much, but needing little, that keeps us from being harmed. The first man is afraid even when no one wrongs him; the second, even if he is wronged, is better off than those who have not been wronged, and is in better spirits for that very reason. So let what we look for be not how to keep anyone from treating us spitefully, but how, even if he wants to, he may have no power to do it. And there is no other way to gain this than by keeping to what is necessary and not wanting anything more. In this way we will be able to enjoy ourselves here and will attain 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.