Homily 22 — First Corinthians 9, verses 13 to 23

“Do you not know that those who serve in holy things eat from the temple, and those who wait on the altar have their share with the altar? In the same way the Lord ordained that those who proclaim the good news should live from the good news.” [a]

He takes great care to show that receiving support was not forbidden. That is why, having already said so much, he was not content with it, but goes on to the law as well, bringing an example closer to the point than the one before. For to bring forward the oxen was not the same thing as to cite the law given expressly about priests.

But notice, please, Paul’s wisdom in this too: how he mentions the matter in a way that gives it dignity. He did not say, “Those who serve in holy things receive from those who offer them.” What, then? “They eat from the temple.” That way, neither are those who receive blamed, nor are those who give made proud. That is also why he has put what follows in the same way. He did not say, “Those who wait on the altar receive from those who sacrifice,” but they “have their share with the altar.” For the things offered no longer belonged to those who offered them, but to the temple and the altar.

And he did not say, “They receive the holy things,” but they “eat from the temple,” pointing again to their moderation, and to the fact that they ought not to make money or grow rich. And though he says that they have their share “with the altar,” he is not speaking of an equal division, but of support given them as their due.

And yet the apostles’ case was much stronger. In the one case the priesthood was an honor; in the other it meant dangers and slaughter and violent deaths. That is why all the other examples put together did not come up to the saying, “If we sowed spiritual things among you.” For in saying “we sowed,” he points to the storms, the danger, the plots, the unspeakable evils they endured in preaching. Yet though the advantage was so great, he was unwilling either to lower the things of the old law or to exalt his own. No, he even plays down what was his, reckoning the advantage not from the dangers but from the greatness of the gift. He did not say, “if we have risked our lives,” or “if we have exposed ourselves to plots,” but “if we sowed spiritual things among you.”

And the priests’ part he exalts as far as he can, saying “those who serve in holy things” and “those who wait on the altar,” meaning by this to point to their continual service and endurance. Again, since he was speaking of the priests among the Jews — both the Levites and the chief priests — he has named each of the orders, the lower and the higher: the one by saying “those who serve in holy things,” the other by saying “those who wait on the altar.” For one work was not commanded to all; some were entrusted with the rougher duties, others with the more exalted offices.

So he took in all of these. And so that no one could say, “Why talk to us about the old law? Don’t you know that ours is the time of more perfect commandments?” after all those points he put the strongest of all, saying (verse 14), “In the same way the Lord ordained that those who proclaim the good news should live from the good news.”

Even here he does not say that they are supported by people. As with the priests it was “from the temple” and “with the altar,” so here it is “from the good news.” And as there he says “eat,” so here he says “live” — not trade on it, or pile up treasures. “For the laborer,” he says, “deserves his wages.”

Verse 15: “But I have used none of these things.” [c]

Someone says: “What then? Suppose you have not used them now, but mean to use them later, and that is why you are saying all this.” Far from it. He quickly corrected that idea, saying, “And I am not writing these things so that it may be done so in my case.” And see how forcefully he disowns the thing and pushes it away: “For it would be better for me to die than that anyone should make my boasting empty.”

He uses this expression not once or twice but many times. Earlier he said, “We did not use this right”; after this he says again, “so as not to use my right to the full”; and here, “But I have used none of these things.”

“These things” — what things? The many examples. He means: “Many things give me license: the soldier, the farmer, the shepherd, the apostles, the law, what we have done for you, what you have done for others, the priests, Christ’s own ordinance. By none of these have I been led to do away with my own rule and to receive. And do not talk to me about the past — though I could say that I endured a great deal in the past as well on this account. Still, I do not rest on that alone. I pledge myself for the future too: I would rather die of hunger than be robbed of these crowns.” “For it would be better for me to die,” he says, “than that anyone should make my boasting empty.”

He did not say, “that anyone should do away with my rule,” but “my boasting.” So that no one could say, “He does it, yes, but not cheerfully; he does it with lament and grief,” he wanted to show how great his joy was and how abundant his zeal, and so he even calls the thing “boasting.” So far was he from being distressed by it that he even boasts of it, and would rather die than fall from this “boasting.” So much dearer to him than life itself was this way of acting.

Next he exalts it on another ground as well, and shows that it was a great thing — not to make himself famous, for he was far from that frame of mind, but to show that he rejoices in it, and to remove all suspicion more completely. That, as I said before, is also why he called it boasting. And what does he say? [d]

Verses 16 to 18: “For if I preach the good news, I have nothing to boast of, for necessity is laid on me; woe to me if I do not preach the good news! For if I do this willingly, I have a reward; but if not willingly, I have been entrusted with a stewardship. What then is my reward? That when I preach the good news, I may offer the good news of Christ free of charge, so as not to use to the full my right in the good news.”

What are you saying? Tell me. If you preach the good news, it is nothing for you to boast of, but if you offer the good news of Christ free of charge, it is? Is this, then, greater than that? By no means. But in another respect it has a certain advantage: the one is a command, the other a good deed of my own free will. Things done beyond the commandment have a great reward on this account, but things done in obedience to a commandment not so great. So it is in this respect that he says the one is more than the other, not in the very nature of the thing. For what is equal to preaching, which makes people rival the angels themselves? Nevertheless, since the one is a commandment and a debt, and the other the eagerness of free will, in this respect this is more than that.

That is why he says, explaining the very thing I just mentioned, “For if I do this willingly, I have a reward; but if not willingly, I have been entrusted with a stewardship.” He takes “willingly” and “not willingly” to mean whether a thing was committed to him as a charge or not. And this is how we must understand the words “for necessity is laid on me”: not as though he did any of these things against his will — far from it! — but as one bound by what he was commanded, and to set it against the freedom to receive that he spoke of before. That is why Christ also said to the disciples (Luke 17, verse 10), “When you have done everything, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what it was our duty to do.’”

“What then is my reward? That when I preach the good news, I may offer the good news free of charge.” What then, tell me — has Peter no reward? Why, who could ever have one as great as his? And what shall we say of the other apostles? How, then, did he say, “If I do this willingly, I have a reward; but if not willingly, I have been entrusted with a stewardship”? Do you see his wisdom here too? He did not say, “But if not willingly, I have no reward,” but “I have been entrusted with a stewardship,” implying that even so he has a reward — but the reward of one who has done what he was commanded, not the reward of one who has been generous out of his own resources and gone beyond the commandment.

“What then is the reward? That when I preach the good news,” he says, “I may offer the good news free of charge, so as not to use to the full my right in the good news.” See how all the way through he uses the word “right,” hinting at this, as I have often pointed out: that those who receive are not to be blamed either. And he added “in the good news,” partly to show that the thing is reasonable, and partly to forbid our stretching the matter to every case. For the teacher ought to receive, but not the mere drone as well.

Verse 19: “For though I was free from all, I brought myself into slavery to all, that I might win the more.” [e]

Here again he brings in another high step forward. It is a great thing even not to receive, but what he is about to mention is much more than that. What is it, then, that he says? “Not only have I not received; not only have I not used this right; I have even made myself a slave, and in a slavery of many kinds, and to everyone. Not in money alone, but — what was much more than money — in many and various labors I have kept this same rule. I have made myself a slave when I was subject to no one and under no necessity of any kind, for that is the meaning of “though I was free from all,” “and I have been a slave not to any one person, but to the whole world.” That is why he added, “I brought myself into slavery to all.” That is: “I was commanded to preach the good news and to proclaim what had been entrusted to me. But contriving and devising countless things besides — all that came from my own zeal. I was only obliged to invest the money, but I did everything to get a return on it, attempting more than was commanded.” So, doing everything as he did from free choice and zeal and love for Christ, he had an insatiable desire for the salvation of humankind. That is why he used to go far beyond the lines marked out, in every way leaping higher than heaven itself.

Next, having spoken of his slavery, he describes in what follows its various forms. And what are they? [f]

Verse 20: “And I became,” he says, “to the Jews as a Jew, that I might win Jews.”

And how did this happen? When he circumcised in order to abolish circumcision. That is why he did not say “a Jew,” but “as a Jew,” which was a wise arrangement. What are you saying? The herald of the world, the man who reached the very heavens and shone so brightly in grace — does he all at once come down so low? Yes. For this is going up. You must look not only at the fact that he comes down, but also at how he raises up the one who was bent over and brings him up to himself.

“To those under the law, as under the law, though not being myself under the law, that I might win those under the law.” Either this explains what went before, or he is hinting at something else besides it: calling “Jews” those who were such originally and from the first, but those “under the law” the converts, or those who had become believers and yet held on to the law. For they were no longer Jews as such, yet they were “under the law.”

And when was he under the law? When he shaved his head; when he offered sacrifice. These things were done, not because his mind had changed — that would have been wickedness — but because his love stooped down to meet them. To bring those who really were Jews over to this faith, he became one himself, not really, but only in appearance. He was not one in fact, and he did not do these things from a mind so disposed. Indeed, how could he have been, zealous as he was to convert others as well, and doing these things only so that he might free others who did them from that low condition?

Verse 21: “To those without law, as without law.”

These were neither Jews, nor Christians, nor Greeks, but “outside the law,” like Cornelius and any others like him. For when he appeared among these too, he used to take up many of their ways. But some say he is hinting at his speech to the Athenians, drawn from the inscription on the altar, and that this is why he says, “to those without law, as without law.”

Then, so that no one would think the thing was a change of mind, he added, “not being without law toward God, but under law to Christ.” That is: “Far from being without law, I am not simply under the law; I have the law that is much higher than the older one, the law of the Spirit and of grace.” That is why he adds “to Christ.” Then again, having made them confident about his judgment, he states what was gained by stooping so low, saying, “that I might win those without law.” Everywhere he brings forward the reason for his stooping down. And he does not stop even here, but says (verse 22), “To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak.”

Here he comes to their own case, which is what all this has been said for. Those other things were much greater, but this was more to the purpose; that is why he has placed it after them. He did the same thing in his letter to the Romans too, when he was finding fault over foods, and so in many other places.

Next, so as not to waste time naming them all one by one, he says, “I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.”

Do you see how far it goes? “I have become all things to all people, not expecting to save everyone, but so that I may save even a few. And I have gone through as much care and service as a man naturally would who was about to save everyone, though I was far from hoping to win them all.” This was truly great-souled, and a proof of burning zeal. So too the sower sowed everywhere, and not all the seed was saved; yet he did his part. And having mentioned how few are saved, he comforted those who grieved at this by adding again “by all means.” For though it is not possible that all the seed should be saved, still it cannot be that all of it should perish. That is why he said “by all means”: because a man so burning with zeal must surely have some success.

Verse 23: “And I do all things for the sake of the good news, that I may be a sharer in it.”

“That is, so that I too may seem to have added some contribution of my own, and may share in the crowns laid up for the faithful.” For as he spoke of “living from the good news,” meaning from the believers, so here too: “that I may be a sharer in the good news; that is, that I may be able to share with those who have believed the good news.”

Do you see his humility — how, when the rewards are paid out, he puts himself down as one of the many, though he had surpassed everyone in his labors? From this it is clear that he would surpass them in his reward too. Nevertheless he does not claim to enjoy the first prize, but is content if only he may share with the others in the crowns laid up for them. He said these things, not because he did this for any reward, but so that by this at least he might draw them on, and by these hopes lead them to do everything for the sake of their brothers and sisters.

Do you see his wisdom? Do you see the excellence of his perfection — how he worked beyond what was commanded, not receiving when it was lawful to receive? Do you see how far his stooping went — how he who was “under law to Christ,” and kept that highest law, became “to those without law, as one without law,” and to the Jews as a Jew, showing himself pre-eminent in both ways and surpassing everyone?

You, too, do this. If you are prominent, do not think you are lowering yourself when for your brother’s sake you accept some humbling. This is not falling, but coming down. The one who falls lies flat and can hardly be raised up again; but the one who comes down will rise again with great gain. So Paul came down alone, but went up with the whole world. And he was not playing a part, for if he had been acting he would not have sought the gain of those who are saved. The hypocrite seeks people’s destruction, and pretends so that he may receive, not so that he may give. Not so the apostle. A physician, a teacher, a father — the first to the sick, the second to the pupil, the third to the son — stoops down to set them right, not to harm them; and so did he. [j]

To show that what has been said was not pretense, listen to him in a case where nothing compels him to do or say anything of the kind, but he means to express his love and his confidence. He says (Romans 8, verses 38 and 39), “Neither life, nor death, nor angels, nor rulers, nor authorities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Do you see a love hotter than fire? Let us love Christ this way too. It is easy, if we are willing. The apostle was not like this by nature either. That, you see, is why his former life, so opposite to this one, was put on record: so that we might learn that the work is one of choice, and that to the willing everything is easy.

So let us not despair. Even if you are a slanderer, or greedy, or whatever you are, remember that Paul was “a blasphemer, a persecutor, an insolent man,” and “the foremost of sinners” (First Timothy 1, verses 13 to 16), and that he suddenly rose to the very summit of virtue, and his former life was no hindrance to him. And yet no one clings to vice with such frenzy as he clung to his war against the church. At that time he threw his very life into it. Because he did not have ten thousand hands to stone Stephen with all of them, he was upset. Even so, he found a way to stone him with more hands — those of the false witnesses, whose clothes he kept.

And again, he went into houses like a wild beast — that was exactly how he rushed in — dragging off and tearing away men and women, filling everything with uproar and confusion and countless struggles. He was so terrifying, in fact, that even after his most glorious change the apostles did not yet dare to join him (Acts 9, verse 26). Yet after all that he became what he became. I need say no more.

Where now are those who set up the necessity of fate against the freedom of the will? Let them hear this, and let their mouths be shut. Nothing stands in the way of someone who wants to become good, even if before he was one of the vilest. In fact we are better suited to that direction, since virtue agrees with our nature and vice is against it, just as health and sickness are. [l]

God gave us eyes, not to look with lust, but so that, admiring his handiwork, we might worship the Creator. And that this is the use of our eyes is clear from the things we see. The brilliance of the sun and the sky we see from an immeasurable distance, but a woman’s beauty no one can make out so far off. Do you see that it was chiefly for this purpose that our eye was given? Again, he made the ear so that we would take in, not blasphemous words, but teaching that saves. That, you see, is why, when it takes in something jarring, our soul shudders, and our very body too. “For,” someone says (Sirach 27, verse 14), “the talk of a man who swears a great deal makes the hair stand on end.” And if we hear something cruel or merciless, again our flesh creeps; but if it is something fitting and kind, we even leap for joy.

Again, if our mouth speaks shameful words, it makes us ashamed and want to hide; but if it speaks serious words, it speaks them easily and with complete freedom. No one would blush over what is according to nature, but over what is against nature. And the hands, when they steal, hide themselves and look for excuses; but when they give alms, they even take pride in it. So, if we are willing, we have from every side a strong inclination toward virtue.

But if you talk to me about the pleasure that comes from vice, consider that this too is something we reap more of from virtue. To have a good conscience, to be looked up to by everyone, and to hold good hopes — this is the most pleasant of all things to anyone who has seen into the nature of pleasure; just as the opposite is the most painful of all things to anyone who knows the nature of pain: to be reproached by everyone, to be accused by our own conscience, to tremble and fear at both the future and the present.

To make what I say clearer, let us suppose, for the sake of argument, a man who has a wife, yet defiles his neighbor’s marriage bed, takes pleasure in this wicked theft, and enjoys his mistress. Then let us set against him another man, who loves his own wife. And to make the victory greater and plainer, let the man who has only his own wife also feel desire for the other woman, the adulteress, but restrain his passion and do nothing wrong — although even this is not pure chastity. Still, I have granted more than I need to, and framed our story this way, so that you may convince yourself how great the pleasure of virtue is.

Now, having brought them together, let us ask them whose life is more pleasant. You will hear the one boasting and exulting in his victory over his craving. But the other — or rather, there is no need to wait to be told anything by him. You will see him, though he denies it countless times, more wretched than men in prison. He fears and suspects everyone: his own wife, the adulteress’s husband, the adulteress herself, the household servants, friends, relatives, walls, shadows, himself. And worst of all, he has his conscience crying out against him, barking aloud every day. And if he should also call to mind the judgment seat of God, he will not even be able to stand.

The pleasure is short, but the pain that comes from it never ends. In the evening, in the night, in the desert, in the city, everywhere, the accuser haunts him, pointing to a sharpened sword and the unbearable punishment, and wearing him down and wasting him away with that terror. But the other, the chaste man, is free of all these things. He is at liberty; he looks at his wife, his children, his friends with ease, and meets everyone with unembarrassed eyes.

Now if the man who is in love but master of himself enjoys such great pleasure, what about the man who has no such passion at all but is truly chaste? What harbor, what calm will be as sweet and serene as the mind he will have? That is why you see few adulterers but many chaste people. If the former life were the more pleasant, the greater number would prefer it. And do not tell me about the terror of the laws. That is not what restrains them. It is the sheer unreasonableness of the thing, the fact that its pains outweigh its pleasures, and the sentence of conscience.

So much for the adulterer. Now, if you like, let us bring the greedy man before you, and lay bare another lawless passion. We will see him, too, afraid of the same things and unable to enjoy any real pleasure. He calls to mind those he has wronged, and those who feel for them, and everyone’s public verdict on himself, and he is shaken by ten thousand anxieties. [m]

And this is not his only torment; he cannot even enjoy the object of his love. For this is the way of the greedy: they possess, not in order to enjoy, but in order not to enjoy. If that seems a riddle to you, hear next something still worse and more puzzling. They are robbed of the pleasure of their goods not only in this way, by not daring to use them as they would like, but also by never being filled with them and living in a constant thirst. What could be more painful than that? But the righteous man is not like this. He is set free from trembling and hatred and fear and this incurable thirst. And as everyone curses the one, so everyone joins in blessing the other; and as the one has no friend, so the other has no enemy.

Now, since this is agreed, what could be more unpleasant than vice, or more pleasant than virtue? Or rather, even if we were to speak forever, no one will be able to describe in words either the pain of the one or the pleasure of the other until we experience it. For then we will find vice more bitter than gall, when we have fully tasted the honey of virtue. Not that vice is not unpleasant even now, and disgusting, and burdensome — not even her own devotees deny this. But when we withdraw from her, then we see more clearly the bitterness of her commands.

And if the crowd runs after her, it is no wonder. Children, too, often choose the less pleasant things and scorn the more delightful ones, and the sick, for a moment’s gratification, lose the lasting and surer joy. But this comes from the weakness and folly of those in the grip of some infatuation, not from the nature of the things. For it is the virtuous man who lives in pleasure; he is the one who is truly rich and truly free.

But suppose someone grants virtue everything else — liberty, ease, freedom from cares, fearing no one, suspecting no one — but will not grant it pleasure. I confess that the only thing that occurs to me is to laugh, and to laugh heartily. For what else is pleasure but freedom from care and fear and dejection, and being in no one’s power? Tell me, who is in pleasure: the man in frenzy and convulsions, goaded by all kinds of cravings and not even himself; or the one who is free of all these waves, and settled in the love of wisdom as in a harbor? Isn’t it plainly the second? But this would seem to belong to virtue alone. So vice has only the name of pleasure; of the reality it has nothing. Before the enjoyment it is madness, not pleasure; and after the enjoyment, at once even this is put out. So if one cannot find its pleasure either at the beginning or afterward, when will it appear, and where?

To help you understand what I am saying more clearly, let us test the force of the argument with an example. Consider this. A man falls in love with a beautiful, attractive woman. As long as he cannot get what he wants, he is like men out of their minds and raving. But once he has got it, he has quenched his appetite. So if he does not feel pleasure at the beginning — for the affair is madness — nor at the end — for by indulging his craving he cools his wild fancy — where after all are we to find it? But what we do is not like that. At the beginning it is free of all disturbance, and to the end the pleasure stays in full bloom. Or rather, there is no end to our pleasure; our good things have no limit, and this pleasure is never done away.

So, in view of all this, if we love pleasure, let us take hold of virtue, so that we may win good things both now and hereafter. May we all attain them, through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, power and honor to the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and to everlasting ages. Amen.