Homily 41 — First Corinthians 15, verses 35 to 46

“But someone will say, ‘How are the dead raised? And with what kind of body do they come?’ Foolish one! What you yourself sow is not made alive unless it dies.” [a]

Gentle and humble as the apostle is almost everywhere, here he takes up a rather sharp style, because of the ungodliness of those who contradicted him. Yet he is not content with that alone. He also uses reasons and examples, and by them he brings even the most quarrelsome to submit. Above, he said, “Since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a man”; but here he answers an objection raised by the pagans.

And see how once again he tempers the force of his rebuke. He did not say, “But perhaps you will say,” but set the objector down without naming anyone. That way, though he uses his forceful style with complete freedom, he would not wound his hearers too deeply. And he states two difficulties: one about the way the resurrection happens, the other about the kind of bodies. They were raising questions about both, saying, “How is something raised up once it has been dissolved?” and, “With what kind of body do they come?” But what does “with what kind of body” mean? It is as if they had said, “With this body that has wasted away and perished, or with some other?”

Then, to show that the things they are asking about are not open questions but settled points, he immediately meets them more sharply, saying, “Foolish one! What you yourself sow is not made alive unless it dies.” We do the same ourselves with people who argue against what everyone admits.

Then why did he not appeal at once to the power of God? [d]

Because he is speaking with unbelievers. When he speaks to believers, he has little need of reasons. So elsewhere, having said, “He will change the body of your lowliness, so that it may be shaped like the body of his glory” (Philippians 3, verse 21), and so having pointed to something even greater than the resurrection, he gave no comparisons. Instead of any proof he brought forward the power of God, going on to say, “by the working through which he is able to subject all things to himself.” But here he also presses reasons. Having already established it from the Scriptures, he adds these further arguments in what follows, with an eye to those who do not obey the Scriptures. And he says, “Foolish one, what you sow” — that is: “You have the proof of these things from yourself, from what you do every day — and do you still doubt? This is why I call you foolish: you are ignorant of the things you yourself do daily. You are yourself a craftsman of resurrection, and you doubt it when it comes to God.” That is why he laid such weight on the word “you” when he said, “what you sow”: you, who are mortal and perishing.

And see how he uses words that suit the purpose he had in view. “It is not made alive,” he says, “unless it dies.” He leaves aside, you see, the terms that belong to seeds, such as “it sprouts,” “it grows,” and “it breaks down,” and takes up those that fit our flesh, namely, “it is made alive” and “unless it dies.” These do not properly belong to seeds, but to bodies.

And he did not say, “After it is dead it lives,” but, which is a greater thing, “It lives because it dies.” Do you see what I am always pointing out, how he constantly turns their argument around against them? What they made a sure sign that we will not rise again, he makes a proof that we will rise. For they said, “The body does not rise again, because it is dead.” What, then, does he say, turning their argument back on them?

“No — unless it died, it could not rise again. It rises again precisely because it died.” Christ had shown this very thing more clearly in the words, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12, verse 24). Paul, drawing his example from there, did not say, “it does not live,” but “it is not made alive,” once again taking for granted the power of God, and showing that it is not the nature of the ground but God himself who brings it all about.

And why did he not bring forward the example that was closer to the subject — I mean human seed? For our own beginning, too, starts from a kind of decay, just as the grain’s does. It is because that example did not have equal force; the grain was the more complete one. He wanted a case of something that perishes entirely, whereas human seed is only a part of the body. That is why he preferred the grain. Besides, human seed comes from a living body and falls into a living womb; but here it is not flesh but earth that the seed is cast into, and it is dissolved into the earth just like a body that has died. On this account too the example was the more fitting.

Verse 37: “And the one who sows does not sow the body that is to be.” The words before answer the question “how they are raised”; these answer the doubt “with what kind of body they come.” But what does “You do not sow the body that is to be” mean? Not a whole ear of grain, and not new grain. For here his discourse is no longer about the resurrection itself but about the manner of the resurrection: what kind of body it is that will rise, whether it is of the same kind, or better and more glorious. And he draws both answers from the same comparison, hinting that it will be much better. [e]

But the heretics, considering none of these things, rush at us and say: “One body falls and another body rises again. How, then, is there a resurrection? The resurrection is of what had fallen. And where is that wonderful and astonishing trophy over death, if one body falls and another rises? He will no longer seem to have given back what he took captive. And how can the comparison he offers fit what was said before?”

Why, it is not one substance that is sown and another that is raised, but the same substance made better. Otherwise Christ too will not have taken up the same body again when he became the firstfruits of those who rise. By your account he threw aside his former body, though it had not sinned, and took another. Then where did that other one come from? This body was from the Virgin; but that one — where was it from? Do you see what absurdity the argument has come round to? Why does he show the very marks of the nails? Was it not to prove that it is the same body that was crucified, and the same again that rose from the dead? And what does his sign of Jonah mean? Surely it was not one Jonah who was swallowed and another who was cast out on dry land. And why did he also say, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up”? What was destroyed is clearly what he raised up again. That is why the evangelist added that “he was speaking of the temple of his body” (John 2, verses 19 and 21).

What, then, does he mean by saying, “You do not sow the body that is to be”? That is, not the ear of grain. For it is the same, and not the same. It is the same, because the substance is the same; it is not the same, because this one is more excellent — the substance remaining the same, but its beauty growing greater, and the same body rising up new. If this were not so, there would be no need of a resurrection at all — I mean, if it were not to rise again made better. For why would he pull down his house at all, unless he were going to build it more glorious?

This, you see, he said to those who think the body is utterly destroyed. Next, so that no one would suspect from this passage that a different body is meant, he qualifies the obscure saying and interprets his own words himself, not allowing the hearer to turn his thoughts from here in any other direction. Why, then, do we need our own reasonings? Listen to him speaking himself and explaining the phrase, “You do not sow the body that is to be.” For he adds at once, “but a bare grain, perhaps of wheat, or of some other kind.” That is, it is not the body that is to be; it is not clothed like that — it does not have a stalk and a bristling ear — but it is “a bare grain, perhaps of wheat, or of some other kind.”

Verse 38: “But God gives it a body as he has pleased.”

“Yes,” someone says, “but in that case it is the work of nature.” What nature, tell me? In that case too it is surely God who does the whole thing — not nature, not the earth, not the rain. That is why, to make this plain, he leaves out the earth and the rain, the air, the sun, and the farmers’ hands, and adds, “God gives it a body as he has pleased.” So do not pry into it out of curiosity, or busy yourself with the how and the in-what-way, when you hear of the power and will of God.

“And to each of the seeds a body of its own.” Then where is the foreign matter they talk about? For he gives to each “its own.” So when he says, “You do not sow the body that is to be,” he does not mean that one substance is raised in place of another, but that it is made better and more glorious. For “to each of the seeds,” he says, “a body of its own.”

From here on, in what follows, he also brings in the difference there will be in the resurrection then. Do not suppose that because grain is sown and all of it comes up as ears, there is therefore also an equality of honor in the resurrection. In the first place, even among seeds there is not only one rank: some are more valuable and some inferior. That is also why he added, “to each seed a body of its own.” [f]

Still, he is not content with this, but looks for another difference, greater and plainer. So that you would not hear, as I said, that all rise again, and suppose that all enjoy the same reward, he had already laid down the seeds of this thought in the earlier verses, saying, “But each in his own order.” Here he brings it out more clearly, saying (verse 39), “All flesh is not the same flesh.”

“Why do I speak of seeds?” he says. “Let us work this point out with bodies, which are what we are discussing now.” That is why he goes on to say, “But there is one flesh of human beings, another flesh of animals, another of birds, and another of fish.”

Verse 40: “There are also heavenly bodies and earthly bodies; but the glory of the heavenly is one, and the glory of the earthly is another.”

Verse 41: “There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star differs from another star in glory.”

And what does he mean by these words? Why did he leap from the resurrection of the body into talk of the stars and the sun? He did not leap away, and he did not break off from his purpose — far from it! He is still keeping to it. Having established the teaching about the resurrection, he now hints that there will be a great difference of glory then, though the resurrection is one. For the present he divides the whole into two, “heavenly bodies” and “earthly bodies.” That the bodies are raised again, he showed by the grain; that they are not all in the same glory, he shows by this. For just as disbelieving the resurrection makes people careless, so thinking that all are granted the same reward makes them lazy. So he corrects both. The first he had finished in the verses before; the second he begins now. And having made two ranks, the righteous and sinners, he divides these two again into many parts, showing that neither the righteous nor sinners will all receive the same: the righteous will not all fare alike with other righteous people, nor sinners with other sinners.

First, you see, he makes one separation, between the righteous and sinners, when he says, “heavenly bodies and earthly bodies,” meaning sinners by the “earthly” and the righteous by the “heavenly.” Then he goes on to bring in a difference between sinners and sinners, saying, “All flesh is not the same flesh, but there is one flesh of fish, another of birds, and another of animals.” And yet all are bodies; but some are in greater baseness and some in less — and that both in their way of living and in their very makeup.

Having said this, he climbs back up to heaven, saying, “There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon.” For just as there is a difference among the earthly bodies, so there is among the heavenly too — and no ordinary difference, but one that reaches to the very limit. There is a difference not only between the sun and the moon and the stars, but also between star and star. What of it, if they are all in heaven? Still, some have a larger share of glory, others a smaller. What do we learn from this? That although all may be in God’s kingdom, all will not enjoy the same reward; and though all sinners may be in hell, all will not endure the same punishment. That is why he added (verse 42), “So also is the resurrection of the dead.”

“So” — how? With a great deal of difference. Then, leaving this teaching as sufficiently proved, he comes back to the proof of the resurrection itself, and to its manner, saying,

“It is sown perishable; it is raised imperishable.” And notice how carefully he chooses his words. In the case of seeds he used the term proper to bodies, saying, “It is not made alive unless it dies”; so in the case of bodies he uses the expression that belongs to seeds, saying, “It is sown perishable; it is raised imperishable.” He did not say “it is produced,” so that you would not think it a work of the earth, but “it is raised.” And by “sowing” here he does not mean our conception in the womb, but the burial of our dead bodies in the earth — their dissolving, their ashes. That is why, having said, “It is sown perishable; it is raised imperishable,” he adds (verse 43), “It is sown in dishonor.” For what is more unsightly than a corpse falling apart? “It is raised in glory.” [h]

“It is sown in weakness.” For within thirty days the whole of it is gone; the flesh cannot hold itself together or last even one day. “It is raised in power,” for nothing will overcome it for all time to come. This is why he needed those earlier comparisons: many, hearing these things — that the dead are “raised imperishable, in glory and in power” — might suppose there is no difference among those who rise. All do rise, in power and imperishable; yet in this glory of being imperishable they are not all in the same state of honor and security.

Verse 44: “It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.”

What are you saying? Is this body not spiritual? It is indeed spiritual, but that one will be much more so. For now the abundant grace of the Holy Spirit often flies away when people commit great sins; and again, even while the Spirit remains present, the life of the flesh depends on the soul, and the result in such a case is an emptiness, without the Spirit. But on that day it will not be so. Rather, the Spirit remains in the flesh of the righteous continually, and the victory will be his, though the natural soul is present too.

Either it was something of this kind that he hinted at by saying “a spiritual body,” or that it will be lighter and finer, even able to be carried on the air — or rather, he meant both. And if you do not believe the teaching, look at the heavenly bodies: so glorious, so lasting (for the present age), abiding in a calm that never decays. Believe from this that God can also make these perishable bodies imperishable, and far more excellent than the ones we see.

Verse 45: “So also it is written, ‘The first man Adam became a living soul’ (Genesis 2, verse 7); the last Adam became a life-giving Spirit.” [j]

And yet the first is written, but the second is not written. How, then, did he say, “It is written”? He framed the expression according to how things turned out, as he continually does — and indeed as is the way of every prophet. So the prophet said that Jerusalem would be “called a city of righteousness” (Isaiah 1, verse 26), yet it was not called that. What then? Did the prophet speak falsely? Not at all. He was speaking of how things would turn out. So too he said that Christ would be called Immanuel (Isaiah 7, verse 14), yet he was not called that. But the facts themselves say it. So also here: “The last Adam became a life-giving Spirit.”

He said these things so that you might learn that the signs and pledges both of the present life and of the life to come have already come to us: of the present life, Adam; of the life to come, Christ. Since he sets down the better things as matters of hope, he shows that their beginning has already taken place, and that their root and their fountain have been brought to light. And if the root and the fountain are plain to all, there is no need to doubt about the fruits. That is why he says, “The last Adam became a life-giving Spirit.” And elsewhere too: “He will make your mortal bodies alive through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Romans 8, verse 11). So giving life is the Spirit’s work.

Further, so that no one would say, “Why are the worse things the older? And why has the one kind, the natural, come about not only as far as the firstfruits but completely, while the other has come only as far as the firstfruits?” he shows that the beginnings of each were arranged this way too.

Verse 46: “For the spiritual is not first,” he says, “but the natural, and then the spiritual.”

And he does not say why, but is content with God’s ordering of things. He has the evidence of the facts bearing witness to that most excellent arrangement of God, and he hints that our condition is always moving forward to something better. At the same time he makes his argument more believable by this too. For if the lesser things have come to pass, much more ought we to expect the better.

Since, then, we are to enjoy such great blessings, let us take our place in this battle line, and let us weep, not for the departed, but for those who have ended their lives badly. The farmer, when he sees the grain dissolving, does not mourn. Rather, as long as he sees it staying solid in the ground, he is fearful and anxious; but when he sees it dissolved, he rejoices, for the dissolving is the beginning of the crop to come. So let us also rejoice when the perishable house falls, when a human being is sown. [o]

And do not be surprised that he called burial “a sowing.” In truth this is the better sowing. That sowing is followed by deaths and labors and dangers and cares; but this one, if we have lived well, by crowns and rewards. That one is followed by decay and death; this one by imperishability and immortality, and by those countless blessings. To that kind of sowing belonged embraces and pleasures and sleep; to this one, only a voice coming down from heaven, and all is brought to completion at once. And the one who rises again is no longer led to a life full of toil, but to a place where anguish and sorrow and sighing have fled away.

If it is protection you need, and that is why you mourn your husband, turn to God, the common Protector and Savior and Benefactor of all — to that unconquerable alliance, that ready help, that lasting shelter which is present everywhere and is like a wall around us on every side.

“But our life together was so dear and so lovely.” I know it too. But if you will entrust this grief to sound reason, and consider within yourself who it is that has taken him away, and that by bearing it nobly you offer your mind as a sacrifice to our God, even this wave will not be too strong for you to stand against. And what time will bring about, do yourself, by mastery of yourself. But if you give in to weakness, your distress will stop, yes, in time — but it will bring you no reward.

Along with these reasons, gather examples too, some from the present life, some from the Holy Scriptures. Consider that Abraham slaughtered his own son, and neither shed a tear nor spoke a bitter word. “But he,” you say, “was Abraham.” Yes, and you have been called to a nobler arena. Job did grieve, but only as much as was fitting for a father who loved his children and cared deeply for the departed. What we do now is surely the conduct of haters and enemies. If a man had been summoned to the palace and crowned, and you were beating your breast and lamenting, I would not call you a friend of the one who was crowned, but a great enemy and adversary.

“No,” you say, “as it is, I am not mourning for him at all, but for myself.” Well, but that is not the part of someone who loves him — to wish, for your own sake, that he were still in the contest and exposed to the uncertainty of the future, when he could be crowned and come to anchor; or that he should be tossed about in mid-ocean, when he could be in port.

“But I do not know where he has gone,” you say. Why do you not know, tell me? According to whether he lived well or otherwise, it is plain where he will go. “No — this is the very reason I lament,” you say, “because he departed as a sinner.” This is a mere pretext and excuse. If this were the reason you mourn for the departed, you ought to have shaped and corrected him while he was alive. The fact is, you look everywhere to what concerns yourself, not to him. [q]

But suppose he did depart with sin upon him. Even on this account one ought to rejoice, that he was stopped short in his sins and did not add to his wrongdoing. And one ought to help him as far as possible — not by tears, but by prayers and petitions and almsgiving and offerings. These things were not devised without meaning, and it is not in vain that we remember the departed during the divine mysteries and draw near to God on their behalf, begging the Lamb who lies before us, who takes away the sin of the world — not in vain, but so that some refreshment may come to them from it. It is not in vain that the one who stands at the altar cries out, when the awesome mysteries are celebrated, “For all who have fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who make remembrance on their behalf.” If there were no remembrance for them, these words would not have been spoken. Our service is not a mere stage show — far from it! No, it is by the ordering of the Spirit that these things are done.

So let us help them and make remembrance for them. If Job’s children were purified by their father’s sacrifice, why do you doubt that when we too make an offering for the departed, some comfort comes to them? For God is accustomed to grant the requests of those who ask on behalf of others. And Paul showed this when he said, “so that, as from many persons, your gift toward us, bestowed through many, may be acknowledged with thanks on your behalf” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 11). So let us not grow weary of helping the departed, both by making offerings for them and by obtaining prayers for them; for the sacrifice that cleanses the whole world lies before us.

That is why we then pray with confidence for the whole world, and name their names along with those of martyrs, of confessors, of priests. For in truth we are all one body, even if some members are more glorious than others. And it is possible to gather pardon for them from every source: from our prayers, from our gifts on their behalf, from those whose names are named with theirs. So why do you grieve? Why mourn, when it is in your power to gather so much pardon for the departed?

Is it that you have been left alone and have lost a protector? No, never say this. You have not lost your God. As long as you have him, he will be better to you than husband and father and child and relative; for even when they were alive, it was he who did everything. [u]

Think about these things, then, and say with David, “The Lord is my light and my Savior; whom shall I fear?” (Psalm 27, verse 1). Say, “You are a Father of the fatherless and a Judge of widows” (Psalm 68, verse 5). Draw down his help, and you will have him caring for you now more than before, all the more because you are in greater difficulty.

Or have you lost a child? You have not lost him; do not say that. This is sleep, not death; a move, not destruction; a journey from the worse to the better. So do not provoke God to anger, but win his favor. If you bear it nobly, some relief will come from it both to the departed and to yourself; but if you do the opposite, you kindle God’s anger all the more. If a servant were being disciplined by his master and you stood by complaining, you would make the master all the angrier with you. So do not do it. Give thanks instead, so that by this too the cloud of sadness may be scattered from you. Say with that blessed man, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away” (Job 1, verse 21). Consider how many who were more pleasing in his sight never received children at all, and were never called fathers.

“Nor would I want to have been,” you say, “for surely it would be better never to have had the experience than to taste the pleasure and then fall from it.” No, I beg you, do not say that; do not provoke the Lord to anger in this way too. For what you have received, give him thanks; and for what you did not keep to the end, give him glory. Job did not say what you so ungratefully say, “It would be better never to have received.” For the one he gave thanks, saying, “The Lord gave”; and for the other he blessed God, saying, “The Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord forever.” And his wife he silenced in this way, declaring himself in the right against her and speaking those admirable words, “Have we received good things from the hand of the Lord, and will we not receive evil?” And after this a fiercer trial came upon him; yet even so he did not lose heart, but bore it nobly in the same way and glorified God.

Do this yourself too, and consider within yourself that it is not a human being who has taken him, but God who made him, who cares for him more than you do and knows what is good for him — who is no enemy, no one lying in wait. See how many children, while they lived, have made life unbearable for their parents. “But don’t you see the ones who have turned out upright?” you say. I see these too; but even these are not as safe as your child is. Though they are approved now, it is uncertain what their end will be; but for him you no longer have any fear, and you do not tremble that anything might happen to him or that he might change.

Consider these things also about a good wife who kept your house, and give thanks to God for everything. Even if you lose a wife, give thanks. Perhaps God wants to lead you to self-control; he is calling you to a nobler contest; he has been pleased to set you free from this bond. If we master ourselves in this way, we will both gain the joy of this life and obtain the crowns 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.