Homily 7 — First Corinthians 2, verses 6 to 16

“Yet we do speak wisdom among the mature, though not a wisdom of this world, nor of the rulers of this world, who are coming to nothing. But we speak God’s wisdom in a mystery, the wisdom that has been hidden, which God ordained beforehand, before the ages, for our glory.” [a]

Darkness seems more agreeable than light to people whose eyesight is diseased, and that is why they prefer to shut themselves away in some room that is thoroughly shaded. It is the same with spiritual wisdom. The wisdom of God seemed foolishness to those outside; and their own wisdom, which really was foolishness, they counted as wisdom.

It is just as if a man skilled in navigation were to promise that he would cross a boundless stretch of sea without a ship or sails, and then try to prove by arguments that the thing could be done; while someone else, who knows nothing of all this, trusts himself to a ship and a helmsman and sailors, and so sails across in safety. This man’s seeming ignorance is wiser than the other man’s wisdom. The art of handling a ship is an excellent thing; but when it promises too much, it becomes a kind of folly. So does every art that is not content to stay within its own proper limits. In just this way the wisdom from outside would have been wisdom indeed, if it had had the help of the Spirit. But because it trusted everything to itself and supposed it needed none of that help, it became foolishness, though it seemed to be wisdom.

That is why Paul first exposed it by the facts, and only then called it foolishness; and he first called the wisdom of God folly, by their way of reckoning, and only then showed it to be wisdom. For it is after our proofs, not before, that we are best able to put those who contradict us to shame.

So his words are, “Yet we do speak wisdom among the mature.” His meaning is this: “When I, who am thought foolish and a preacher of follies, get the better of the wise, I overcome wisdom not by foolishness, but by a more perfect wisdom — a wisdom so ample and so much greater that the other looks like foolishness.” So, having first called it by the name they gave it at that time, and having both proved his victory from the facts and shown the utter foolishness of the other side, from then on he gives it its right name, saying, “Yet we do speak wisdom among the mature.” “Wisdom” is his name for the good news, for the way of salvation — being saved by the cross. “The mature” are those who believe. For they truly are “mature” who know that all human things are utterly helpless, and who look past them, convinced that they gain nothing by them. Such were the true believers.

“But not a wisdom of this world.” For what use is the wisdom from outside, which ends here and goes no further, and cannot help those who have it even here?

Now by “the rulers of this world” he does not mean certain demons here, as some suspect, but those in authority, those in power, those who think this thing worth fighting over: philosophers, rhetoricians and speechwriters. For these were the dominant sort, and they often became leaders of the people. He calls them “rulers of this world” because their rule reaches no further than the present world. That is why he adds, “who are coming to nothing,” belittling this wisdom both on its own account and on account of those who wield it. He had shown that it is false, that it is foolish, that it can discover nothing, that it is weak; now he shows as well that it lasts only a short time.

“But we speak God’s wisdom in a mystery.” What mystery? Surely Christ says, “What you hear in the ear, proclaim on the housetops” (Matthew 10, verse 27). How, then, does Paul call it “a mystery”? Because neither angel nor archangel, nor any other created power, knew of it before it actually took place. [b]

That is why he says, “so that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God might be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 3, verse 10). God has done this to honor us, so that they would not hear the mysteries without us. We too, whenever we make friends, are in the habit of pointing to this as a sure proof of our friendship toward them: that we tell our secrets to no one before them. Let those listen who expose the secrets of the good news to shame, who display the “pearls” and the teaching to everyone without distinction, and throw “what is holy” to “dogs” and “pigs” and useless reasonings. The mystery needs no argument; it is only to be declared, just as it is. It will not be a mystery, divine and whole in all its parts, once you add anything of your own to it.

There is another sense, too, in which it is called a mystery: we do not simply look at what we see, but some things we see and others we believe. That is the nature of our mysteries. I, for example, feel one way about these things, and an unbeliever another. I hear, “Christ was crucified,” and at once I marvel at his love for humankind; the other man hears it and thinks it weakness. I hear, “He became a servant,” and I wonder at his care for us; the other hears it and counts it a disgrace. I hear, “He died,” and I am astonished at his might, that when he was in death he was not held there, but even broke the bonds of death; the other hears it and supposes it was helplessness. He hears of the resurrection and says the thing is a legend; I know the facts that prove it, and I fall down and worship God’s plan of salvation.

He hears of the washing and counts it merely water; but I look not simply at what is seen, but at the cleansing of the soul that comes by the Spirit. He thinks only that my body has been washed; but I have believed that the soul too has become both pure and holy, and I count it the tomb, the resurrection, holiness, righteousness, redemption, adoption, the inheritance, the kingdom of heaven, the full supply of the Spirit. For I do not judge the things that appear by my sight, but by the eyes of the mind. I hear of “the Body of Christ”: I understand the words in one sense, the unbeliever in another.

Think of children looking at their books: they do not know what the letters mean, and they do not know what they are seeing. What is more, a grown man who has not learned his letters will be in the same position. But a man skilled in reading will find a great deal of meaning stored up in the letters — whole lives and histories. A letter in the hands of someone who cannot read will be thought nothing but paper and ink; but one who knows how to read will hear a voice, and talk with someone who is absent, and reply whatever he likes in writing. So it is with the mystery too. Unbelievers hear, yet seem not to hear; but the faithful, who have the skill that comes from the Spirit, see the meaning of what is stored up inside. This is the very thing Paul indicated when he said that even now the word that is preached is hidden: “It is hidden,” he says, “to those who are perishing” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 3).

In another way, too, the word points to the good news being contrary to all expectation. Scripture regularly calls by no other name what happens beyond all hope and above all human thought. That is why it says in another place, “My mystery is for me,” and for my own. And Paul again: “Look, I tell you a mystery: we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed” (First Corinthians 15, verse 51).

And though it is preached everywhere, it is still a mystery. For as we have been commanded to “speak on the housetops what we have heard in the ear,” so we have also been charged “not to give what is holy to dogs, nor to throw our pearls before pigs” (Matthew 7, verse 6). Some are fleshly and do not understand; others have a veil over their hearts and do not see. That is why this, above all things, is a mystery: it is preached everywhere, yet it is not known by those who do not have a right mind; and it is revealed not by wisdom, but by the Holy Spirit, as far as we are able to receive it. [e]

For this reason a man would not be wrong if, in this respect too, he called it a mystery that may not be spoken. For not even to us, the faithful, has complete certainty and exactness been entrusted. That is why Paul also said, “We know in part, and we prophesy in part; for now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face” (First Corinthians 13, verses 9 and 12).

That is why he says, “We speak wisdom in a mystery, the hidden wisdom, which God ordained beforehand, before the ages, for our glory.” “Hidden”: that is, none of the powers above learned it before us, and most people do not know it even now. [f]

“Which he ordained beforehand for our glory.” And yet elsewhere he says, “for his own glory”; for God counts our salvation his own glory, just as he also calls it his own riches (see Ephesians 3, verse 8), though he himself is rich in good things and needs nothing in order to be rich.

He says “ordained beforehand” to show the care that was taken for us. For those are counted to honor and love us most who have set themselves to do us good from the very beginning. This is what fathers do for their children: even though they do not hand over their property until later, from the very first, from the beginning, they had determined to do it. And this is what Paul is eager to show now: that God always loved us, from the beginning, even when we did not yet exist. For if he had not loved us, he would not have ordained our riches beforehand. So do not look at the hostility that came in between; the friendship is older than that.

As for the words “before the ages,” they mean eternal. For in another place too it says, “He who is before the ages.” And the Son too, if you notice, will be found to be eternal in the same sense. For of him it says, “Through him he made the ages” (Hebrews 1, verse 2), and that amounts to saying that he existed before the ages; for it is plain that the maker comes before the things that are made.

Verse 8: “None of the rulers of this world knew it; for if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” [h]

But if they did not know, how could he say to them, “You both know me, and you know where I am from” (John 7, verse 28)? Concerning Pilate, indeed, Scripture says that he did not know (see John 19, verse 9). It is likely that Herod did not know either. These, one might say, are the ones called rulers of this world. But if someone were to say that this is spoken of the Jews and the priests as well, he would not be wrong. For to them too he says, “You know neither me nor my Father” (John 8, verse 19). How, then, did he say a little before, “You both know me, and you know where I am from”? However, the nature of that knowing and of this not knowing has already been explained in our discussion of the Gospel; and so as not to keep handling the same subject over and over, we refer our readers there.

What, then? Was their sin in the matter of the cross forgiven them? For he surely did say, “Forgive them” (Luke 23, verse 34). If they repented, it was forgiven. For even the man who set countless attackers on Stephen and persecuted the church — Paul himself — became the church’s champion. In just the same way, those others who chose to repent received forgiveness. And this is exactly what Paul himself meant when he exclaims (Romans 11, verses 11 and 12): “I say, then, have they stumbled so as to fall? Far from it!” “I say, then, has God cast away his people whom he foreknew? Far from it!”

Then, to show that repentance was not shut off from them, he brought forward his own conversion as decisive proof, saying, “For I too am an Israelite.” As for the words “they did not know,” they seem to me to be said here not of Christ’s person, but only of the plan of salvation hidden in the event itself — as if he had said, “They did not know what the death and the cross meant.” For in that other passage too he did not say, “They do not know me,” but, “They do not know what they are doing”: that is, they do not know the plan that is being carried out, and the mystery. They did not know that the cross would shine out so brightly; that it would become the salvation of the world and the reconciliation of God with humankind; that their city would be taken; and that they would suffer the utmost misery.

By the name “wisdom” he means Christ, and the cross, and the good news. And it was fitting that he called him “the Lord of glory.” Since the cross is counted a thing of disgrace, he shows that the cross was great glory. But great wisdom was needed, not only to know God, but also to learn this plan of God’s; and the wisdom from outside turned out to be an obstacle, not only to the first, but to the second as well.

Verse 9: “But as it is written: ‘Things that eye did not see, and ear did not hear, and that did not enter into the heart of man — whatever things God prepared for those who love him.’” [j]

Where are these words written? Well, something is said to have been “written” in these cases too: when it is set down not in words but in actual events, as in the historical books; or when the same meaning is expressed, though not in the very same words, as here. For the words, “Those who were not told about him will see, and those who have not heard will understand” (Isaiah 52, verse 15, in the Greek Old Testament; compare Romans 15, verse 21, and Isaiah 64, verse 4), are the same as “the things that eye has not seen, nor ear heard.” Either this is his meaning, or else it probably was actually written in some books, and the copies have perished.

For many books were destroyed, and few were preserved whole, even in the first captivity. And this is plain from those that remain to us. For the apostle says, “From Samuel and the prophets who followed after, they have all spoken about him” (Acts 3, verse 24), and these words of theirs do not all survive. Paul, however, being learned in the law and speaking by the Spirit, would of course know everything accurately. And why do I speak of the captivity? Even before the captivity many books had disappeared, since the Jews had rushed headlong into the very depths of ungodliness. This is plain from the end of the Fourth Book of Kings (Second Kings 22, verse 8; Second Chronicles 34, verse 14): the book of Deuteronomy could hardly be found, for it had been buried somewhere in a dung heap.

Besides, in many places there are prophecies with a double meaning, easy for the wiser sort to grasp, and from them we may work out many of the things that are obscure.

What, then? Has “eye not seen what God prepared”? No. For who among men saw the things that God was about to arrange? Nor, then, has “ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man.” How is this? If the prophets spoke of it, how can he say, “Ear has not heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man”? It did not enter; for he is not speaking of himself alone, but of the whole human race. What, then? Did the prophets not hear? Yes, they heard; but the prophet’s ear was not the ear “of man,” for they did not hear as men, but as prophets. [l]

That is why the prophet said, “He has added to me an ear to hear” (Isaiah 50, verse 4, in the Greek Old Testament), meaning by “added” what came from the Spirit. From this it is plain that before they heard, it had not entered into the heart of man. For after the gift of the Spirit, the heart of the prophets was not the heart of man but a spiritual heart; as Paul says himself, “We have the mind of Christ” (verse 16). It is as if he would say: “Before we received the blessing of the Spirit and learned the things no one can speak, none of us, and none of the prophets either, conceived them in his mind. How could we, when not even angels know them? For why speak of ‘the rulers of this world,’ when no man knew them, nor even the powers above?”

What kind of things are these, then? That by what is thought to be the foolishness of preaching he would overcome the world; that the nations would be brought in; that there would be reconciliation of God with men; and that such great blessings would come upon us!

How, then, have we come to know them? “To us,” he says, “God has revealed them through his Spirit” — not through the wisdom from outside. For that wisdom, like some disgraced maidservant, was not permitted to enter in, and stoop down, and look into the mysteries that belong to the Lord (see John 20, verse 5). Do you see how great the difference is between this wisdom and that? The things the angels did not know are the things this wisdom has taught us; but the wisdom from outside has done the opposite. Not only did it fail to teach; it hindered and obstructed, and after the event it tried to cast a shadow over what he had done, emptying the cross of its power. So he does not describe the honor given us simply by our receiving the knowledge, nor by our receiving it together with the angels, but, what is more, by his Spirit bringing it to us.

Then, to show how great it is, he says: If the Spirit, who knows the secret things of God, had not revealed them, we would not have learned them. This whole subject was so much God’s concern that it was among his secrets. That is why we also needed that Teacher who knows these things perfectly; for “the Spirit,” he says, “searches all things, even the deep things of God” (verses 10, 11 and 12). Here the word “search” points not to ignorance but to exact knowledge. It is the very same way of speaking that he used even of God, when he said, “He who searches the hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit” (Romans 8, verse 27).

Then, having spoken precisely about the Spirit’s knowledge, and having shown that it is as fully equal to God’s knowledge as a man’s knowledge of himself is to himself, and also that we have learned all things from the Spirit, and necessarily from him, he added: “These things we also speak, not in words that human wisdom teaches, but in words the Holy Spirit teaches, comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” Do you see how high he lifted us because of the Teacher’s dignity? We are wiser than they are by as much as Plato differs from the Holy Spirit; for they had the pagan rhetoricians for their masters, but we have the Holy Spirit.

But what does “comparing spiritual things with spiritual” mean? When something is spiritual and its meaning is in doubt, we bring forward testimonies from spiritual things. For example, I say that Christ rose again, that he was born of a virgin. I bring forward testimonies, and types, and proofs: Jonah’s stay in the whale and his rescue afterward; the barren women who bore children, Sarah, Rebekah and the rest; the trees that sprang up in paradise (Genesis 2, verse 5) when no seed had been sown, no rain sent down, no furrow drawn. For the things to come were shaped and sketched out beforehand in the earlier things, as in a shadow, so that the things that are now might be believed when they came. [n]

And again we show how man came from the earth, and woman from man alone, and this without any intercourse at all; and how the earth itself came from nothing, since the power of the great Craftsman is everywhere sufficient for all things. This is how I “compare spiritual things with spiritual,” and in no case do I need the wisdom from outside — neither its reasonings nor its ornaments. For such people only stir up a weak understanding and confuse it. They cannot prove clearly any one of the things they assert; they even have the opposite effect. They rather trouble the mind and fill it with darkness and great perplexity. That is why he says, “comparing spiritual things with spiritual.”

Do you see how superfluous he shows it to be? And not only superfluous, but even hostile and harmful. For this is what the words mean, “so that the cross of Christ would not be emptied of its power,” and, “so that our faith would not rest on the wisdom of men.” And he shows here that those who confidently entrust everything to it cannot learn anything useful; and the reason comes next.

Verse 14: “The unspiritual man does not receive the things of the Spirit.” So the wisdom from outside must be laid aside first. [p]

Someone will say: “What, then? Is the wisdom from outside to be branded with disgrace? And yet it is the work of God.” How is that plain? He did not make it; it was your own invention. In this passage Paul uses the word “wisdom” for prying inquiry and a needless polish of words. But suppose someone says he means the human understanding: even in that sense the fault is yours. You bring a bad name on it by making bad use of it, when, to God’s injury and to thwart him, you demand from it things it never had. Since, then, you boast in it and fight against God with it, he has exposed its weakness.

Strength of body is an excellent thing too; but when Cain did not use it as he ought, God disabled him and made him tremble (Genesis 4, verses 12 and 14). Wine also is a good thing; but because the Jews indulged in it without measure, God forbade the priests the fruit of the vine altogether. And since you too have abused wisdom, to the point of rejecting God, and have demanded of it more than it can do by its own strength, he has shown you its weakness, to draw you away from hoping in what is human.

For, to go on, he is “an unspiritual man” who credits everything to the reasonings of his own mind and does not consider that he needs help from above — and that is a mark of sheer folly. God gave the understanding so that it might learn and receive help from him, not so that it should think itself sufficient for itself. Eyes are beautiful and useful; but if they choose to see without light, their beauty does them no good, nor does their natural power — it even does them harm. In the same way, if you look closely, any soul that chooses to see without the Spirit becomes an obstacle even to itself.

But it will be said: “Then how did the soul see everything by itself before this?” It never did this by itself, at any time. It had creation set before it like a book lying open to view. But people stopped walking in the way God had commanded them, stopped coming to know the great Craftsman through the beauty of the things that can be seen, and handed over the guiding staff of knowledge to arguments. Then they grew weak and sank in a sea of ungodliness. For they at once brought in what was the very abyss of all evil, claiming that nothing was produced from what did not exist, but everything from uncreated matter; and from this source they became the parents of ten thousand heresies.

What is more, in their most extreme absurdities they agreed; but on the points where they seemed to dream up something sound, even if only in shadows, they quarreled with one another — so that on both counts they might be laughed to scorn. That nothing is produced out of what does not exist, nearly all of them have asserted and written with one accord, and with great zeal. In these absurdities, then, the devil was driving them on. But in their useful sayings, where they seemed, though only dimly, to find some part of what they were looking for, they waged war on each other: for example, that the soul is immortal; that virtue needs nothing outside itself; and that being good, or the opposite, is not a matter of necessity or of fate.

Do you see the devil’s cunning? Wherever he saw people saying something corrupt, he made them all of one mind; but wherever they said something sound, he raised up others against them. So the absurdities did not die out, since general agreement confirmed them, while the useful teachings withered away, since they were understood in so many different ways. Notice how in every respect the soul is unstrung and slack, and not sufficient for itself.

And this turned out just as one would expect. For if, being what it is, the soul aspires to need nothing and withdraws itself from God, then suppose it had not fallen into its present condition — into what utter madness would it not have slid without noticing? If, with a mortal body, it expected greater things from the devil’s false promise (“You will be,” he said, “like gods,” Genesis 3, verse 5), how far would it not have thrown itself away if it had received its body immortal from the beginning? For even as things are, it has declared itself unbegotten and of God’s own being, through the corrupt mouth of the Manichaeans; and it was this sickness that led it to invent the gods of the Greeks.

That is why, it seems to me, God made virtue a matter of hard labor: to bend the soul down and bring it to modesty. And so that you may convince yourself this is true (so far as one may guess at great things from small ones), let us learn it from the Israelites. Everyone knows that when they did not lead a life of toil but gave themselves over to ease, they could not bear their prosperity, and fell away into ungodliness. What did God do about this? He laid a multitude of laws on them to restrain their license. And to convince you that these laws did not contribute to any virtue, but were given them as a kind of curb, furnishing them with an occasion for constant labor, hear what the prophet says about them: “I gave them statutes that were not good” (Ezekiel 20, verse 25). What does “not good” mean? Statutes that did not contribute much toward virtue. That is why he adds, “and ordinances by which they will not live.”

“But the unspiritual man does not receive the things of the Spirit.”

For just as no one could learn the things in the heavens with these eyes of ours, so neither can the soul, unaided, learn the things of the Spirit. And why do I speak of the things in heaven? It does not take in even all the things on earth. When we look at a square tower from far off, we think it is round; but that opinion is nothing but a deception of the eyes. So too, we may be sure, when a man examines things that are far off by his understanding alone, much ridicule will follow. Not only will he fail to see them as they really are; he will even take them for the opposite of what they are. That is why Paul added, “for they are foolishness to him.” But this does not come from the nature of the things, but from his weakness, since he cannot reach their greatness with the eyes of his soul.

Next, carrying on the contrast, he states the cause of this, saying, “he does not know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” That is, the things spoken of require faith, and it is not possible to grasp them by reasonings, for their greatness far exceeds the lowliness of our understanding. That is why he says, “But the spiritual man judges all things, yet he himself is judged by no one.” The man who has sight sees for himself everything that concerns the man who has none; but no blind person can discern what the other is doing. [w]

So too in the case before us. Our own affairs and those of unbelievers — all of them we for our part know; but ours, from here on, they do not know. We know what the nature of the present things is, and what the worth of the things to come is; what will one day become of the world, when this present order of things is no more; what sinners will suffer, and what the righteous will enjoy. That the present things are worth nothing, we both know, and we expose their poverty (for “to judge” also means to expose); and we know that the things to come are immortal and unshakable. All these things the spiritual man knows; and what the unspiritual man will suffer when he has departed into that world, and what the believer will enjoy when he has finished his journey out of this one — none of which the unspiritual man knows.

That is why, adding a plain proof of what he has said, he goes on: “For who has known the mind of the Lord, so as to instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.” That is to say: the things that are in the mind of Christ, these we know — the very things he wills and has revealed. He had said, “the Spirit has revealed them”; so, to keep anyone from leaving the Son out, he adds that Christ also showed us these things. He does not mean that we know everything Christ knows, but that all the things we know are not human, and so open to suspicion, but belong to his mind, and are spiritual. [x]

For the mind we have about these things we have from Christ; that is, the knowledge we have about the things of the faith is spiritual, so that with good reason we are “judged by no one.” It is not possible for an unspiritual man to know divine things. That is why he said, “For who has known the mind of the Lord?” — implying that the mind we have about these things is his mind. And he has not added “so as to instruct him” without reason, but with reference to what he had just said: “the spiritual man is judged by no one.” For if no one is able to know the mind of God, much less can he teach it and correct it. That is what “so as to instruct him” means.

Do you see how on every side he drives off the wisdom from outside, and shows that the spiritual man knows more things, and greater ones? Those earlier reasons — “so that no flesh should boast,” and “that is why he chose the foolish things, to shame the wise,” and “so that the cross of Christ would not be emptied of its power” — did not seem to the unbelievers very believable, or attractive, or necessary, or useful. So he finishes by laying down the chief reason: that in this way we most easily see from whom we can learn even high things, secret things, things that are above us. For reasoning was made completely powerless by our inability to grasp the things above us through the wisdom of the pagans.

You may notice, too, that it was more to our advantage to learn in this way, from the Spirit. For that is the easiest and clearest teaching of all.

“But we have the mind of Christ.” That is, a mind that is spiritual, divine, with nothing human in it. For it is not Plato’s, or Pythagoras’s; it is Christ himself putting his own things into our mind.

This, then, if nothing else, let us revere, beloved, and let our life shine out as the very best. For he himself makes this a sure proof of great friendship — namely, revealing his secrets to us — where he says (John 15, verse 15), “From now on I do not call you servants, for you are all my friends; for everything that I have heard from my Father I have told you.” That is: I have trusted you. Now if this by itself is a proof of friendship — to trust someone — then when it turns out that he has not only entrusted to us the mysteries conveyed in words, but has also shared with us those conveyed in deeds, think how vast the love must be of which this is the fruit.

This, if nothing else, let us revere. Even if we do not take hell very seriously, let it be more fearful to us than hell to be thankless and ungrateful to such a friend and benefactor. Let us do everything not as hired servants, but as sons and free men, for the love of our Father. And let us at last stop clinging to the world, so that we may put the Greeks to shame as well. Even now, when I want to put out my strength against them, I shrink from doing it. However far we surpass them in our arguments and in the truth of what we teach, I am afraid we may bring a great deal of ridicule on ourselves when our way of life is compared with theirs. For they cling to error and have no such conviction, and yet they hold to philosophy; but we do just the opposite.

Still, I will say it. For it may be — it may well be — that in practicing how to contend with them, we will come to long, as rivals, to be better than they are in our way of life too.

I was saying not long ago that it would never have entered the apostles’ thoughts to preach what they did preach if they had not enjoyed divine grace; and that, far from succeeding, they would not even have thought of such a thing. Well then, let us go on with the same subject today, and show that it was impossible for them even to choose it or conceive it if they had not had Christ with them. It was not only that they were lined up the weak against the strong, the few against the many, the poor against the rich, the unlearned against the wise. It was that the grip of settled opinion was great as well. For you know that nothing has such a hold on people as the tyranny of ancient custom. So even if they had not been only twelve, and not so despised, not such as they really were, but another world as large as this one, with an equal number lined up on their side, or even far more — even then the result would have been hard to achieve. For the other side had custom in its favor, while their very newness stood in their way.

Nothing so disturbs the mind — even when it is done for some good purpose — as making innovations and bringing in strange things, and most of all when this is done in matters of divine worship and the glory of God. How great a force this is I will make plain in a moment. But first let me point out that there was another difficulty besides, where the Jews were concerned. With the Greeks, the apostles did away with both their gods and their teachings altogether. But they did not argue that way with the Jews: they abolished many of their teachings, yet told them to worship the God who had laid those teachings down. While affirming that the Lawgiver was to be honored, they told them not to obey in every respect the law that came from him — for instance, in keeping the Sabbath, or in circumcision, or in offering sacrifices, or in anything else of that kind. So not only was custom an obstacle; there was also the fact that in the very act of telling people to worship God, they told them to break many of his laws.

But with the Greeks, the tyranny of custom was great. If it had been a custom of only ten years — I do not say of so long a time — and if it had taken hold of only a few people — I do not say the whole world — when these men came to them, even then the change would have been hard to bring about. But as it was, sophists and orators, fathers and grandfathers, and many still older than all of these, had been taken hold of by the error. The very earth and sea, mountains and groves, all the nations of the barbarians and all the tribes of the Greeks, wise men and ignorant, rulers and subjects, women and men, young and old, masters and slaves, craftsmen and farmers, those living in cities and in the country — all of them. And the educated would naturally say: “What in the world is this? Has everyone who lives in the world been deceived — sophists and orators, philosophers and historians, the present generation and those before it, Pythagoreans, Platonists, generals, consuls, kings, the citizens and settlers of every city from the beginning, barbarians and Greeks alike? And are twelve fishermen and tentmakers and tax collectors wiser than all of these? Who could put up with such a claim?” Yet they did not say this, or even think it. They put up with the apostles, and admitted that they were wiser than all. That is why the apostles overcame everyone. And custom was no obstacle to this, though it is counted unconquerable once it has gained its full sway over time.

To help you learn how great the strength of custom is: it has often prevailed over the commands of God. And why do I say commands? Even over blessings themselves. The Jews, when they had manna, demanded garlic; enjoying freedom, they kept remembering their slavery; and they were always longing for Egypt, because they were used to it. That is how tyrannical a thing custom is.

If you want to hear of it from the pagans too: it is said that Plato, though well aware that everything about the gods was a kind of fraud, went along with all the festivals and all the rest of it, since he could not fight against custom — and that he had in fact learned this from his teacher. For his teacher too was suspected of some such innovation, and far from achieving what he wanted, he even lost his life, and that after making his defense. And how many people do we see now held in idol worship by settled opinion, who have nothing plausible to say when they are charged with being Greeks, but plead their fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers! It was for no other reason that some of the pagans called custom a second nature.

And when the subject of the custom is teaching about God, it becomes more deeply rooted still. A person will change anything more easily than what belongs to religion. Shame, too, joined with custom, was enough to put an obstacle in the way: the look of learning a new lesson in extreme old age, and from people thought less intelligent at that. And why be surprised that this happens with the soul, when even in the body custom has great force?

In the apostles’ case, though, there was yet another obstacle, stronger than these. It was not merely a matter of changing a custom so ancient and so long established; the change was also made in the face of danger. They were not simply drawing people from one custom to another, but from a custom that held no fear to an undertaking that threatened peril. The believer had at once to face the loss of his property, persecution, and exile from his country; he had to suffer the worst ills, be hated by everyone, and be a common enemy to his own people and to strangers alike. So even if they had been calling people away from something new to something customary, even then it would have been hard. But when it was from custom to something new, and with all these terrors besides, think how great the obstacle was!

And another thing, no less than those I have mentioned, was added to make the change hard. Besides the custom and the dangers, these commands were heavier, while the things they were drawing people away from were easy and light. For they called people from sexual immorality to chastity; from love of life to death in all its forms; from drunkenness to fasting; from laughter to tears and heartfelt sorrow; from greed to utter poverty; from safety to dangers; and in everything they demanded the strictest care. “Filthiness,” he says, “and foolish talk and joking — do not let these come out of your mouth” (Ephesians 5, verse 4). And they said these things to people who knew nothing but getting drunk and serving their bellies, who held festivals made up of nothing but “filthiness” and laughter and wild revels of every kind. So the teachings were heavy not only because of the strictness of life they required, but also because they were spoken to people who had been brought up in careless ease, in “filthiness” and “foolish talk,” in laughter and wild revels.

Who among those who had lived in these things, on hearing, “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10, verse 38), and, “I did not come to bring peace but a sword, and to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother” (Matthew 10, verse 34), would not have gone numb all over? And who, on hearing, “Whoever does not say goodbye to home and country and possessions is not worthy of me,” would not have hesitated, would not have refused? And yet there were people who not only did not go numb or shrink back when they heard these things, but ran to meet them, rushed at the hardships, and eagerly seized the commands laid on them.

Again, to be told, “For every idle word we will give an account” (Matthew 12, verse 36), and, “Whoever looks at a woman to lust after her has committed adultery with her the moment he sees her” (Matthew 5, verse 28), and, “Whoever is angry without cause will fall into hell” (Matthew 5, verse 22) — which of the people of that day would these things not have frightened off? And yet everyone came running in, and many even leaped beyond the bounds of the course. What, then, drew them? Was it not plainly the power of the one who was preached? Suppose things were not as they are, but just the opposite — this side in the other’s place, and the other in this one’s. Would it have been easy, I ask you, to hold on to people who resisted and drag them along? We cannot say so. So in every way that power is proved divine which achieved things so excellently. Otherwise, tell me, how did they win over the frivolous and the dissolute, and urge them on toward a strict and rugged way of life?

Such, then, was the nature of the commands. But let us see whether the teaching was attractive. No; in this respect too there was enough to frighten the unbelievers away. For what did the preachers say? That we must worship the one who was crucified, and count as God him who was born of a Jewish woman. Now who would have been persuaded by these words unless divine power had led the way? That he had been crucified and buried, everyone knew; but that he had risen again and been taken up into heaven, no one had seen except the apostles.

But you will say: “They excited people with promises and deceived them with empty-sounding words.” No; this very point, more than any other, shows — even apart from all that has been said — that our teachings are no deception. All its hardships came here and now, but its comforts they promised for after the resurrection. This very thing, I say again, shows that our good news is divine. For why did none of the believers say: “I will not agree to this, and I will not put up with it. You threaten me with hardships here, and the good things you promise after the resurrection. Why, how is it clear that there will be a resurrection? Which of the dead has come back? Which of those at rest has risen again? Which of them has told us what will happen after we leave this world?” But none of these things entered their minds; instead they gave up their very lives for the one who was crucified.

So this bare fact was, more than anything, a proof of great power: first, that they produced conviction at once, about matters so great, in people who had never in their lives heard of anything of the kind; second, that they persuaded them to take the hardships in hand and to count the blessings as a matter of hope. If they had been deceivers, they would have done the opposite. They would have promised their good things as belonging to this world, and would not have mentioned the fearful things at all, whether they had to do with this life or the next. That is how deceivers and flatterers act. They hold out nothing harsh or galling or burdensome, but just the opposite. That is the nature of deceit.

But it will be said: “It was the folly of most of them that made them believe what they were told.” What are you saying? When they were among the Greeks they were not foolish, but when they came over to us, did their folly begin then? Yet the people the apostles took and persuaded were not of another kind, or from another world. They were people who had held the opinions of the Greeks at no risk, but received ours with dangers attached. So if they had held the former with better reason, they would not have turned away from them, after being brought up in them for so long — especially since it was not possible to turn away without danger. But when they came to know from the very nature of things that everything on that side was mockery and delusion, then, even under threat of death in many forms, they leaped away from their accustomed ways and came over willingly to the new, since the new teaching was in keeping with nature and the other was against nature.

But it is said: “Those who were convinced were slaves, and women, and nurses, and midwives, and eunuchs.” Now in the first place, our church is not made up of these alone; that is plain to everyone. But suppose it were: this is exactly what makes the good news worth marveling at — that teachings Plato and his followers could not grasp, the fishermen were suddenly able to persuade the most ignorant of all to receive. If they had persuaded only the wise, the result would not have been so wonderful. But in raising slaves and nurses and eunuchs to such strictness of life that they rivaled the angels, they gave the greatest proof of their divine inspiration.

Again, if they had been commanding some trifling things or other, it might perhaps be reasonable to point to the kind of people who were convinced, to show that what was said was trifling. But if the substance of their lessons in wisdom was great and lofty things, things almost beyond human nature and calling for high thoughts, then the more foolishness you show in those who were convinced, the more clearly you show that those who convinced them were wise and filled with divine grace.

But you will say: “They won them over by the sheer size of the promises.” But tell me, is this very thing not a wonder to you: how they persuaded people to expect prizes and rewards after death? If there were nothing else, this alone would amaze me. “But this too came from folly.” Tell me, where is the folly in these things: that the soul is immortal; that an impartial judgment seat will receive us after this present life; that we will give an account of our deeds and words and thoughts to God, who knows all secrets; that we will see the wicked punished and the good with crowns on their heads? No, these things are not folly but the highest teaching of wisdom. The folly lies in the opposite opinions.

Now if this were the only thing — despising what is present, setting great store by virtue, not seeking rewards here but pressing on far ahead in hope, and keeping the soul so intent and so faithful that no present terror can hinder its hope of what is to come — tell me, to what lofty philosophy must this belong? But would you also learn the force of the promises and predictions in themselves, and the truth of those that concern both this present order of things and what comes after it? Look, I will show you a golden chain, skillfully woven from the beginning! He told them some things about himself, about the churches, and about the things to come; and as he spoke, he worked mighty deeds. By the fulfillment of what he said, then, it is plain both that the wonders he worked were real and that the things to come, which he promised, are real too.

To make my meaning plainer still, let me illustrate it from the actual case. He raised Lazarus with a single word and showed him alive. Again, he said, “The gates of Hades will not prevail against the church” (Matthew 16, verse 18), and, “Whoever leaves father or mother will receive a hundred times as much in this life, and will inherit eternal life” (Matthew 19, verse 29). The miracle, then, is one, the raising of Lazarus; but the predictions are two, the one shown true here, the other in the world to come.

Now see how they all prove one another. If someone disbelieves the raising of Lazarus, let him learn to believe the miracle from the prophecy spoken about the church. For the word spoken so many years before came to pass and was fulfilled: “the gates of Hades” did not prevail against the church. You see, then, that he who spoke the truth in the prophecy clearly also worked the miracle; and he who both worked the miracle and brings his words to fulfillment clearly speaks the truth also in his predictions of what is yet to come, when he says, “Whoever despises the things of the present will receive a hundred times as much, and will inherit eternal life.” For he has given what has already been done and spoken as the surest pledges of what will come to pass hereafter.

So let us gather all these things, and others like them, out of the Gospels, tell them to these people, and so stop their mouths. And if anyone says, “Why, then, was error not completely stamped out?” this may be our answer: You yourselves are to blame, who rebel against your own salvation. For God has so arranged this matter that not even a trace of the old ungodliness need have been left.

Now, to go over briefly what has been said: what is the natural course of things? That the weak should be overcome by the strong, or the opposite? That those who say easy things should prevail, or those who say harsher ones? Those who draw people with dangers, or with safety? Innovators, or those who strengthen custom? Those who lead into a rough road, or into a smooth one? Those who draw people away from the institutions of their fathers, or those who lay down no strange laws? Those who promise all their good things for after we leave this world, or those who flatter in the present life? The few to overcome the many, or the many the few?

But someone says: “You too made promises that belong to this life.” What, then, have we promised in this life? The forgiveness of sins and the washing of new birth. Now in the first place, baptism itself has its chief part in the things to come. Paul cries out (Colossians 3, verse 4), “For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When your life is revealed, then you too will be revealed with him in glory.” But if it also has advantages in this life, as indeed it has, this too is above all a matter of great wonder: that they were able to persuade people who had done countless evil deeds — deeds such as no one else had done — that they would wash themselves clean of all of them, and would give account for none of their offenses.

So on this very account it is most fitting to marvel that they persuaded barbarians to embrace such a faith as this, and to have good hopes about the things to come; and, having thrown off the old burden of their sins, to devote themselves with the greatest zeal from then on to the labors that virtue demands; not to gape after anything of the senses, but, rising above everything bodily, to receive gifts that are purely spiritual. Yes — that the Persian, the Sarmatian, the Moor and the Indian should come to know the cleansing of the soul, the power of God, his mercy to humankind beyond words, the strict discipline of faith, the coming of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection of bodies, and the teachings of eternal life! For in all these things, and in whatever is greater than these, the fishermen, initiating many different barbarian races by baptism, persuaded them to live by the highest principles.

So, having carefully taken note of all these things, let us speak of them to the pagans; and let us also show them the evidence of our lives, so that by both means we ourselves may be saved, and they may be drawn over through us to the glory of God. For to him be the glory forever. Amen.