Homily 38 — First Corinthians 15, verses 1 to 10

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on First Corinthians

Homily 38 — First Corinthians 15, verses 1 to 10

First Corinthians 15, verses 1 to 10

“Now I make known to you, brothers and sisters, the good news which I preached to you, which you also received, in which you also stand, by which you are also saved: in what words I preached it to you.”

Having finished his discussion of spiritual gifts, Paul passes on to the most necessary subject of all, the resurrection. For on this too they were badly unsound. In people’s bodies, when a fever takes hold of their solid parts — I mean the sinews and the veins and the primary elements — the damage becomes incurable unless it receives a great deal of attention. That is just what was likely to happen then, since the damage was spreading to the very elements of godliness. That is why Paul takes such great pains here. For from now on his discussion was not about conduct, not about one man being sexually immoral, another greedy, and another covering his head, but about the very sum of all good things. They were divided over the resurrection itself.

Since this is our whole hope, the devil made a fierce stand against this point. At one time he was overturning it entirely; at another, his line was that it had “already happened.” Paul, writing to Timothy, called this wicked teaching a gangrene, and he branded those who brought it in, saying, “Among them are Hymenaeus and Philetus, who have gone astray from the truth, saying that the resurrection has already happened, and are overturning the faith of some” (Second Timothy 2, verses 17 and 18). So at one time they said this; at another, that the body does not rise again, but that the purifying of the soul is the resurrection.

That wicked demon persuaded them to say these things because he wanted not only to overturn the resurrection, but also to show that everything done for our sake is a made-up story. For if they were persuaded that there is no resurrection of bodies, he would gradually have persuaded them that Christ was not raised either. And from there, in due course, he would bring in this too: that Christ had not come, and had not done what he did. Such is the craft of the devil. That is why Paul calls it “cunning craftiness”: the devil does not reveal at once what he means to accomplish, for fear of being found out. He dresses himself in a mask of one kind and contrives schemes of another. Like a crafty enemy attacking a walled city, he secretly undermines it from below, so as to be hard to guard against and to succeed in what he attempts.

Since such snares of his were continually being detected, and his crafty ambushes hunted out by this admirable and mighty man, Paul said, “For we are not ignorant of his schemes” (Second Corinthians 2, verse 11). So here too he lays open all the devil’s deceit and points out all his stratagems. Whatever the devil would like to accomplish, Paul sets before us, going over all of it with great precision. Yes, and that is why he put this subject after the rest: both because it was extremely necessary, and because it takes in our whole condition.

And notice his careful thought: first he secures his own people, and then he goes further in his discussion and thoroughly silences those outside. He secures his own not by reasoning, but by things that had already happened, which they themselves had received and believed had taken place. Nothing was more likely to shame them and take hold of them. For if they refused to believe after this, it would no longer be Paul they disbelieved, but themselves. That was a rebuke to people who had once for all received the teaching and then changed their minds. This is why he starts from here, implying that he needs no other witnesses to prove he is telling the truth than the very people who had been deceived.

But to make what I am saying clearer, we must now attend to the words themselves. What are they? “I make known to you, brothers and sisters,” he says, “the good news which I preached to you.” Do you see how modestly he begins? Do you see how from the very start he shows that he is bringing in nothing new or strange? For someone who “makes known” what was already known, but had since fallen into forgetfulness, “makes it known” by calling it back to memory.

And when he called them “brothers and sisters,” even by this he laid the foundation of no small part of the proof of what he says. For we became “brothers and sisters” through nothing else than Christ’s plan of salvation in the flesh. And that is exactly why he called them this: at once to soothe them and win them over, and to remind them of their countless blessings.

And what comes next shows the same thing again. What is it? “The good news.” For the whole sum of the Gospels has its starting point here: that God became man, and was crucified, and rose again. This is the good news Gabriel announced to the Virgin, the prophets to the world, and all the apostles as well.

“Which I preached to you, which you also received, in which you also stand, by which you are also saved, in what word I preached it to you, if you hold it fast, unless you believed in vain.”

Do you see how he calls them themselves as witnesses of what he says? And he does not say, “which you heard,” but “which you received.” He is claiming it back from them like a deposit, and showing that they received it not in word only, but also through deeds and signs and wonders, and that they ought to keep it safe.

Next, since he had been speaking of things long past, he brought in the present time as well, saying, “in which you also stand.” He takes the high ground against them, so that they could not disown it, however much they wanted to. And that is why at the beginning he did not say, “I teach you,” but “I make known to you” what had already been made plain.

But how can he say that people so tossed about by the waves “stand”? He pretends not to know, for their good. He does this with the Galatians too, though not in the same way. There he could not pretend not to know, so he frames his words differently, saying, “I am confident about you in the Lord that you will take no other view” (Galatians 5, verse 10). He did not say, “that you took no other view,” because their fault was admitted and plain; instead he answers for their future. Even that was uncertain, but he said it to draw them to himself more effectively. Here, however, he does pretend not to know, saying, “in which you also stand.”

Then comes the benefit: “by which you are also saved, in what words I preached it to you.” He means: “So this present explanation is to make the teaching clear and to interpret it. The teaching itself you do not need to learn, but only to be reminded of it and set right.” He says this to leave them no room to plunge headlong into recklessness once and for all. But what does “in what word I preached it to you” mean? “In what way did I say that the resurrection takes place? For I would not say that you doubt there is a resurrection; but perhaps you are trying to get a clearer understanding of that teaching. This, then, I will supply for you, since I am well assured that you hold the teaching.”

Next, because he had just flatly affirmed, “in which you also stand,” he alarms them again, so as not to make them more careless by it, saying, “if you hold it fast, unless you believed in vain.” He is hinting that the blow falls on the head itself, and that the contest is not over ordinary things, but over the whole of the faith. For the present he says it with restraint. But as he goes on and grows warm, he throws off the veil and goes on to cry out and say, “But if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain, and your faith is in vain too; you are still in your sins.” Not so at the beginning, though; for it was best to proceed that way, gently and by degrees.

Verse 3: “For I delivered to you first of all what I also received.” Here too he does not say, “I told you,” or “I taught you,” but uses the same expression again: “I delivered to you what I also received.” Nor again does he say here, “I was taught,” but “I received.” By this he establishes two things: first, that one ought to bring in nothing of one’s own; and next, that they had been fully persuaded by proof from what was done, not by bare words. And little by little, as he makes his argument believable, he refers the whole of it to Christ and shows that nothing in these teachings came from man.

But what is this, “For I delivered to you first of all”? That is his expression. It means, “in the beginning, not now.” By saying this he calls time as a witness, and shows that it would be the greatest disgrace for people who had been persuaded for so long to change their minds now. And not only that, but also that the teaching is necessary. That is why it was “delivered” among “the first things,” straight from the beginning.

And what did you deliver? Tell me. But he does not say this at once; first he says, “I received.” And what did you receive? “That Christ died for our sins.” He did not immediately say that there is a resurrection of our bodies. Yet this is the very thing he is in fact establishing, but from a distance and by way of other points, saying that “Christ died,” and laying down beforehand a kind of strong base and unshakable foundation for the teaching about the resurrection. For he did not simply say that “Christ died,” although even this was enough to declare the resurrection, but he made an addition: “Christ died for our sins.”

The Manichaeans Answered

But first it is worth hearing what those who are infected with the Manichaean teachings say here — people who are enemies of the truth and wage war against their own salvation. What do they claim? By “death” here, they say, Paul means nothing other than our being in sin, and by “resurrection,” our being set free from our sins. Do you see how nothing is weaker than error? How it is caught by its own wings, and needs no war from outside, but is run through by itself? Look at these men, for example, and how they too have run themselves through by their own statements.

For if this is what death is, and Christ did not take a body, as you suppose, and yet he died, then by your account he was in sin. I, for my part, say that he took a body to himself, and that his death was the death of the flesh. But you, who deny this, will be forced to affirm the other. And if he was in sin, how does he say, “Which of you convicts me of sin?” and, “The ruler of this world is coming, and he has nothing in me” (John 8, verse 46, and John 14, verse 30)? And again, “Thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3, verse 15)?

Indeed, how did he die for sinners at all, if he himself was in sin? The one who dies for sinners must himself be without sin. For if he sins too, how will he die for other sinners? But if he died for others’ sins, he died without sin. And if he died without sin, he died — not the death of sin, for how could he, being without sin? — but the death of the body. That is why Paul did not simply say, “He died,” but added, “for our sins.” By this he both forces these heretics against their will to confess his bodily death, and shows that before his death he was without sin. For the one who dies for others’ sins must, it follows, be without sin himself.

Nor was he content with this, but he added, “according to the Scriptures.” By this he both makes his argument believable once more and hints at what kind of death he means, since it is the death of the body that the Scriptures everywhere proclaim. “They pierced my hands and my feet” (Psalm 21, verse 18), he says, and, “They will look on him whom they pierced” (John 19, verse 37, and Zechariah 12, verse 10). And one may see many other passages stored up in them — not to name them all one by one — some in words and some in types, setting out his slaughter in the flesh, and that he was slain for our sins. For one of them says, “For the sins of my people he has come to death”; and, “The Lord gave him up for our sins”; and, “He was wounded for our transgressions” (Isaiah 53).

But if you will not bear the Old Testament, hear John crying out and declaring both things, his slaughter in the body and its cause. “Look,” he says, “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1, verse 29). Hear Paul too, saying, “For he made him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 21); and again, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us” (Galatians 3, verse 13); and again, “Having stripped the rulers and authorities from himself, he made a public show of them, triumphing over them” (Colossians 2, verse 15). And there are ten thousand other sayings to show what happened at his death in the body, and that it was because of our sins. Yes, and Christ himself says, “For your sakes I consecrate myself,” and, “Now the ruler of this world has been condemned,” showing that he was slain having no sin.

Verse 4: “And that he was buried.”

This too confirms what went before, for what is buried is surely a body. And here he no longer adds “according to the Scriptures.” He had the means to do it, and yet he does not add it. For what reason? Either because the burial was plain to everyone, both then and now, or because the phrase “according to the Scriptures” is set down to cover both together. Why, then, does he add “according to the Scriptures” in this place — “and that he rose on the third day according to the Scriptures” — and is not content with the earlier phrase, spoken to cover both? Because this too was obscure to most people. So here again he brings in “the Scriptures,” by inspiration, having conceived this thought so wise and divine.

How is it, then, that he does the same with regard to Christ’s death? Because there too, although the cross was plain to everyone and he was stretched out on it in the sight of all, the cause was not equally plain. Everyone knew the fact of his death, but that he suffered it for the sins of the world was not equally known to the crowd. That is why he brings in the testimony from the Scriptures.

This, however, has been sufficiently proved by what we have said. But where have the Scriptures said that he was buried, and would rise again on the third day? Through the type of Jonah, which he himself points to, saying, “As Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12, verse 40). Through the bush in the desert: for just as it burned and yet was not consumed (Exodus 3, verse 2), so that body died indeed, but was not held by death forever. And the dragon in Daniel foreshadows this too. For just as the dragon took the food the prophet gave it and burst apart in the middle, so Hades swallowed down that body and was torn apart, the body itself cutting open its womb and rising again.

Now if you want to hear in words as well what you have seen in types, listen to Isaiah saying, “His life is taken from the earth” (Isaiah 53, verses 8, 10 and 11), and, “The Lord is pleased to cleanse him from his wound … to show him light”; and to David before him: “You will not leave my soul in Hades, nor let your Holy One see decay” (Psalm 16, verse 10).

That is why Paul too sends you on to the Scriptures, so that you may learn that these things were not done without cause or at random. How could they have been, when so many prophets describe and proclaim them beforehand? And nowhere does Scripture mean the death of sin when it mentions our Lord’s death, but the death of the body, and a burial and resurrection of the same kind.

The Witnesses of the Resurrection

Verse 5: “And that he appeared to Cephas.” He names at once the most believable of them all. “Then to the Twelve.” Verse 6: “Then he appeared to above five hundred brothers and sisters at once, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep.” Verse 7: “Then he appeared to James; then to all the apostles.” Verse 8: “And last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared to me also.”

So, having mentioned the proof from the Scriptures, he adds the proof from the events as well, bringing forward as witnesses of the resurrection, after the prophets, the apostles and other faithful people. If he meant that other resurrection, the deliverance from sin, it would be pointless for him to say, “He appeared to this one and that one.” This is the argument of someone establishing the resurrection of the body, not of someone teaching obscurely about deliverance from sins. That is why he did not say “He appeared” just once, although it would have been enough to set the word down once to cover them all. Instead he uses it twice and three times, and almost for each separate one of those who had seen him: “He appeared,” he says, “to Cephas; he appeared to above five hundred brothers and sisters; he appeared to me also.”

Yet surely the Gospel says the opposite, that he was seen by Mary first (Mark 16, verse 9). But among men he was seen first by the one who longed most of all to see him.

But what twelve apostles is he speaking of here? For Matthias was added to their number after Christ was taken up, not immediately after the resurrection. But it is likely that he appeared even after he was taken up. At any rate, our apostle himself was both called and saw him after he had been taken up into heaven. That is why Paul does not state the time either, but simply lists the appearance, without defining it. It is probable that there were many appearances; that is why John too said, “This was now the third time he was revealed” (John 21, verse 14).

“Then he appeared to above five hundred brothers and sisters.” Some say that “above” means above, from heaven: that is, “he appeared to them not walking on the earth, but above and overhead.” They add that Paul’s purpose was to confirm not only the resurrection but also his being taken up into heaven. Others say that the phrase “above five hundred” means “more than five hundred.”

“Most of whom remain until now.” That is: “Though I am telling of events long past, I have living witnesses.” “But some have fallen asleep.” He did not say “have died,” but “have fallen asleep,” confirming the resurrection once more by this expression too.

“After that he was seen by James.” His brother, I suppose. For the Lord himself is said to have ordained him and made him the first bishop in Jerusalem. “Then to all the apostles.” For there were other apostles too, such as the Seventy.

“And last of all he appeared to me also, as to one untimely born.” This is an expression of modesty more than anything else. For it was not because he was the least that Christ appeared to him after the rest. Even if he did call him last, Paul showed himself more illustrious than many who came before him — or rather, than all of them. And surely the five hundred brothers and sisters were not better than James just because he appeared to them before him.

Why did he not appear to all at the same time? So that he might first sow the seeds of faith. The one who saw him first, and was precisely and fully assured, told it to the rest. Then their report, arriving first, put the hearer in expectation of this great wonder and prepared the way for the faith that comes from sight. That is why he did not appear to all together, nor to many at the beginning, but first to one alone — and he the leader of the whole company and the most faithful — since there really was great need of a most faithful soul to be the first to receive this sight. Those who saw him after others had seen him, and heard it from them, had in that testimony something that contributed in no small degree to their own faith and prepared their minds beforehand. But the one first counted worthy to see him needed great faith, as I have said, so as not to be thrown into confusion by a sight so contrary to all expectation.

That is why he appears to Peter first. The one who first confessed him to be the Christ was rightly counted worthy to be the first to see his resurrection. And it was not for this reason alone that he appears to him first, but also because Peter had denied him. To comfort him all the more, and to show that he had not been given up on, he granted him even this sight before the rest, and entrusted his sheep to him first. That is also why he appeared to the women first. Because this sex had been made inferior, it is the first to taste his grace, both at his birth and at his resurrection.

But after Peter he appears to each of the others at intervals, at one time to fewer, at another to more. By this he makes them witnesses and teachers of one another, and makes his apostles trustworthy in everything they said.

“And last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared to me also.” What do these expressions of humility mean here, and in what way are they timely? For if he wants to show himself worthy of belief and to enroll himself among the witnesses of the resurrection, he is doing the opposite of what he wants. He ought to exalt himself and show that he was great, as he does in many places when the occasion calls for it. Well, the very reason he speaks modestly here too is that he is about to do this — not at once, however, but with his own particular good sense. First he speaks modestly and heaps up many charges against himself, and then he magnifies what concerns himself.

What might the reason be? That when he comes to utter that great and lofty statement about himself, “I labored more abundantly than all of them,” his words may be better received, both by this means and by being spoken as a consequence of what went before rather than as a leading point. That is also why, writing to Timothy and intending to say great things about himself, he first sets down the charges against himself. For everyone speaks freely and boldly when praising others in high terms; but the one who is forced to praise himself, especially when he also calls himself as a witness, is embarrassed and blushes. So this blessed man first declares his own wretchedness, and then utters that lofty statement.

He does this partly to soften the offensiveness of speaking about himself, and partly to commend to their belief, by this means, what he had to say afterward. For the one who truthfully states the things that discredit him and hides none of them — that he persecuted the church, that he laid waste the faith — by this puts the things that do him honor beyond suspicion as well.

And consider how exceedingly great his humility is. Having said, “and last of all he appeared to me also,” he was not content with this. For “many who are last will be first,” Christ says, “and the first last” (Matthew 20, verse 16). So he added, “as to one untimely born.” Nor did he stop there, but adds his own verdict as well, with a reason, saying — Verse 9: “For I am the least of the apostles, and not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.”

He did not say he was least of the Twelve only, but of all the other apostles as well. And he said all these things both as a man speaking humbly and because he really did feel this way, as I said; and at the same time he was preparing in advance for what he meant to say next, and making it easier to accept. Suppose he had come forward and said: “You ought to believe me that Christ rose from the dead. I saw him, and of all I am the most worthy of belief, since I have labored more.” Words like that might have offended his hearers. But as it is, by dwelling first on what humbled him and what counted against him, he took away whatever might grate in such an account, and prepared the way for them to believe his testimony.

That is why, as I said, he does not simply declare himself the last and unworthy of the name of apostle, but also gives the reason: “because I persecuted the church.” And yet all those things had been forgiven. Even so, he himself never forgot them, because he wanted to show how great God’s favor was. That is why he goes on to say, in verse 10: “But by the grace of God I am what I am.”

Do you see here another overflowing of humility? The faults he lays on himself, but none of the good deeds; instead he credits everything to God. Then, so that this would not make his hearer careless, he says, “And his grace which was given to me was not found to be in vain.” And this again he says with restraint. He did not say, “I have shown an effort worthy of his grace,” but, “it was not found to be in vain.”

“But I labored more abundantly than all of them.” He did not say, “I was honored,” but, “I labored.” And though he had dangers and deaths to speak of, he calls them by the name of labor, and so once more tones down what he says.

Then, practicing his usual humility again, he quickly passes over this too and credits the whole to God, saying, “Yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.” What could be more admirable than such a soul? He had lowered himself in so many ways and spoken only one lofty word, and even this he does not call his own. On every side, from what came before and from what follows, he finds ways to shrink this lofty expression, and that because he came to it only out of necessity.

But consider how rich he is in words of humility. “Last of all he appeared to me,” he says; that is why he mentions no one else alongside himself. And he says, “as to one untimely born,” and that he is “the least of the apostles,” and not even worthy of that name. Nor was he content even with these. So that he would not seem humble in words only, he gives both reasons and proofs: for being “one untimely born,” that he saw Jesus last; and for being unworthy even of the name of apostle, that he “persecuted the church.” For the man who is humble-minded and nothing more does not do this; but the man who also sets down the reasons says it all from a crushed heart. That is why elsewhere, too, he mentions these same things, saying, “And I thank him who gave me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he counted me faithful, appointing me to his service, though I was formerly a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and an insolent man” (First Timothy 1, verses 12 and 13).

But why did he say that lofty thing at all, “I labored more abundantly than all of them”? He saw that the occasion forced him to. If he had not said it, if he had only run himself down, how could he boldly call himself as a witness, count himself with the rest, and say, in verse 11, “Whether then it was I or they, so we preach”?

For a witness has to be trustworthy, and a man of standing. How he “labored more abundantly than all of them” he showed earlier, when he said, “Do we not have the right to eat and to drink, as the other apostles do?” and again, “to those without the law, as without the law.” So where strictness had to be shown, he outdid everyone; and where he needed to stoop down to meet others, he again showed the same great superiority.

Some, though, point to his being sent to the Gentiles and to his having traveled over the greater part of the world. From this it is plain that he enjoyed more grace. For if he labored more, the grace was also greater; and he enjoyed more grace because he also showed more effort. Do you see how the very things by which he struggles and strains to put himself in the shade show him to be first of all?

Neither Despair nor Slackness

When we hear these things, let us too lay our faults out in the open and say nothing of our good qualities. Or if the occasion forces us to speak of them, let us do it with restraint and credit the whole to God’s grace. That is just what the apostle does. Again and again he brands his former life with disgrace, but credits what he became afterward to grace, so that from every angle he might show God’s mercy: that God saved him, such as he was, and once he was saved, made him what he now is.

So let no one who is in sin despair, and let no one who is living virtuously be overconfident. Rather, let the virtuous man be full of fear, and the sinner full of eagerness. For no lazy man will be able to remain in virtue, and no diligent man will be too weak to escape from evil.

The blessed David is an example of both. After dozing a little, he had a great fall; and when he was pierced to the heart, he hurried back up to his former height. For both are evils alike, despair and laziness: laziness quickly throws a man down from the very vault of heaven, and despair does not let the fallen rise again. That is why, with regard to the one, Paul said, “Let anyone who thinks he stands take care that he does not fall” (First Corinthians 10, verse 12); but to the other, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Hebrews 4, verse 7); and again, “Lift up the hands that hang down and the paralyzed knees” (Hebrews 12, verse 12). And the man who had committed sexual immorality but repented, he quickly revives for this very reason, “so that such a one might not be swallowed up by excessive sorrow” (Second Corinthians 2, verse 7).

Why, then, are you cast down over other griefs, my friend? If even over sins, where grief alone does any good, too much of it does great harm, how much more over everything else! Why are you grieving? Because you have lost money? Then think of those who do not even get their fill of bread, and you will very quickly find comfort. And in each of the things that pain you, do not mourn over what has happened, but give thanks for the disasters that have not happened.

Did you have money and lose it? Do not weep over the loss; give thanks for the time you enjoyed it. Say like Job, “Have we received good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil?” (Job 2, verse 10). And along with that, use this argument too: even if you have lost your money, you still have your body sound, and you do not have to grieve over its being maimed along with your poverty.

But has your body too suffered some injury? Even this is not the bottom of human misfortune; you are still being carried along in the middle of the cask. For many, along with poverty and maiming, are also wrestling with a demon and wandering in deserts, and others again endure things more grievous than these. May it never be our lot to suffer everything a person can suffer!

So always think about these things. Keep in mind those who suffer worse, and do not be upset at any of these things. But when you sin, then and only then sigh, then weep. I do not forbid you; no, rather I command it. Yet even then do it with moderation, remembering that there is a way back, there is reconciliation.

But do you see others living in luxury while you are poor, and another man in fine clothes and in high position? Do not look only at these things, but also at the miseries that come from them. And in your poverty, too, do not consider only the want, but take into account the pleasure that comes from it as well. For wealth wears a cheerful mask, but inside it is full of gloom; and with poverty it is the other way around. If you could lay open each man’s conscience, in the soul of the poor man you would see great ease and freedom, but in the rich man’s, confusion, disorder, storms.

And if it grieves you to see him rich, he is far more upset than you when he looks at someone richer than himself. As you fear him, so he fears another, and in this he has no advantage over you. But are you upset to see him in office, because you are a private citizen, one of the governed? Remember the day when his office ends. And even before that day, remember the uproar, the dangers, the exhaustion, the flattery, the sleepless nights, and all the miseries.

We say these things to those who have no taste for the higher moral teaching. If you understand that, there are other and greater things by which we could comfort you; but for now we must use the plainer arguments in reasoning with you. So when you see someone rich, think of the man who is richer than he is, and you will see that he is in the same condition as you. And after him, look also at the man who is poorer than you. Consider how many have gone to bed hungry, have lost what their fathers left them, live in a dungeon, and pray every day to die. For it is not poverty that breeds sadness, nor wealth pleasure; it is our own thoughts that usually produce both in us.

Consider this, starting from the bottom. The refuse collector grieves and frets because he cannot get free of this work of his, so wretched and thought so disgraceful. But if you free him of it and let him have plenty of the necessities of life, and securely, he will grieve again that he does not have more than he needs. If you give him more, he will want to double it again, and so will torment himself no less than before. If you give him twice or three times as much, he will lose heart again because he has no share in public affairs. If you provide him with this too, he will count himself wretched because he is not one of the highest officials of state.

When he has gained this honor, he will mourn that he is not a ruler; when he is a ruler, that it is not of a whole nation; when of a whole nation, that it is not of many nations; when of many nations, that it is not of all. When he becomes a deputy, he will fret again that he is not a king; if a king, that he does not reign alone; if alone, that he is not king of the barbarian nations too; if of the barbarian nations, that he is not king of the whole world; and if of the whole world, why not of another world as well? And so his train of thought runs on without end and never lets him be pleased. Do you see how, even if you took a man from lowliness and poverty and made him a king, you would not take away his dejection unless you first corrected his way of thinking, in love as it is with having more?

Come, let me show you the opposite too: even if you brought a thoughtful man down from a higher station to a lower one, you would not throw him into dejection and grief. If you like, let us go down the same ladder. Take the satrap down from his throne, and in imagination strip him of that rank. I say that he will not fret over it, if he chooses to keep in mind the things I have spoken of. He will not count up what he has been deprived of, but what he still has: the glory that comes from having held office. But if you take this away too, he will count up those who are private citizens and have never risen to such power, and his wealth will be enough to comfort him.

And if you cast him out of this too, he will look to those who have modest means. And if you took away even his modest wealth and let him have nothing but the food he needs, he can think of those who do not have even this, but wrestle with constant hunger and live in prison. And even if you put him into that prison, when he thinks of those who lie sick with incurable diseases and pains that nothing can relieve, he will see that he is far better off. As the refuse collector I mentioned will reap no cheerfulness even if he is made a king, so this man will never fret even if he becomes a prisoner.

So it is not wealth that is the foundation of pleasure, nor poverty of sadness, but our own judgment, and the fact that the eyes of our mind are not pure; they are not fixed anywhere and do not stay put, but flutter about without limit. Healthy bodies stay in good and vigorous condition even if they are fed on bread alone, while sickly ones grow all the weaker even if they enjoy a rich and varied diet. So it usually happens with the soul too. The small-souled cannot be happy even with a diadem and honors beyond words; but the self-denying will enjoy a pure pleasure even in chains and fetters and poverty.

So let us keep these things in mind and always look at those who are below us. There is, I grant, another comfort, but it belongs to a lofty moral teaching and rises above the coarseness of the crowd. What is it? That wealth is nothing, poverty is nothing, disgrace is nothing, honor is nothing; for only a short time, and only in name, do they differ from one another. And along with this there is another soothing thought, greater than that one: the thought of the things to come, both evil and good, the things that are really evil and really good, and taking comfort from them. But since many, as I said, keep their distance from these teachings, we were compelled to dwell on other points, so that in due course we might lead on to these higher ones those who accepted what we said first.

So let us take all these things into account and set ourselves right by every means, and we will never grieve at these unexpected things. If we saw rich men in a painting, we would not call them enviable, any more than we would call the poor men painted there wretched and pitiable. And yet those in the painting surely last longer than the ones we count wealthy. A man stays rich in a picture longer than in the real nature of things. The one often lasts, looking just the same, for as long as a hundred years; but the other, sometimes before he has had even a year to live at ease among his possessions, has suddenly been stripped of everything.

So let us meditate on all these things and from every side build up cheerfulness as an outer wall against our unreasoning sorrow, so that we may both pass the present life with pleasure and gain the good things to come, through the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, power, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.