Homily 12 — Second Corinthians 6, verses 1 to 10

“And working together with him, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says, ‘At an acceptable time I listened to you, and on a day of salvation I helped you.’” [a]

He had said that God is pleading, and that we are ambassadors pleading with you to “be reconciled to God.” So that they would not grow careless because of this, he now alarms and rouses them again, saying, “We urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain.” It is as though he said: “Let us not take our ease because he pleads with us and has sent ambassadors. No — for this very reason let us hurry to please God and to lay in a store of spiritual goods.” As he also said earlier, “The love of God compels us” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 14) — that is, presses us, drives us, urges us on — “so that, after so much loving care, you will not grow careless, show no nobility, and miss such great blessings. Do not suppose that, because he has sent some to appeal to you, it will always be this way. It will be so until his second coming. Until then he pleads with us, for as long as we are here; but after that comes judgment and punishment.” That is why he says, “We are compelled.”

For he urges them on constantly, not only from the greatness of the blessings and from God’s love for humankind, but also from the shortness of the time. That is why he says elsewhere too, “For now our salvation is nearer” (Romans 13, verse 11), and again, “The Lord is at hand” (Philippians 4, verse 5). But here he does something more. He spurs them on not only from the fact that the time remaining is short and small, but also from its being the only season there is for salvation.

“Look,” he says, “now is the acceptable time; look, now is the day of salvation.” So let us not let the favorable moment slip, but show an eagerness worthy of the grace. That is why we too press on, knowing both how short the time is and how fitting. And that is why he said, “And working together, we also urge you.” “Working together” with you: “For we work together with you, rather than with God, whose ambassadors we are. He needs nothing; the whole benefit of salvation passes over to you.” But if he means working together with God, he does not reject that reading either, for he says in another place, “We are God’s fellow workers” (First Corinthians 3, verse 9) — working with him, he says, in this way: to save people.

Again, “We also urge you.” For God, when he pleads, does not simply plead. He sets out his just claims: that he gave his Son, the Righteous One, who did not so much as know sin, and made him to be sin for us sinners, so that we might become righteous. Though he had these claims, and though he is God, he showed such goodness. “But what we plead for is that you would receive the benefit and not reject the gift. So be persuaded by us, and ‘do not receive the grace in vain.’” He adds these words so that they would not think that believing in the one who calls is, by itself, the whole of “reconciliation.” He is asking for the earnestness that has to do with how we live. For someone who has been freed from his sins and made a friend, to go back and wallow in the old things is to return to enmity, and to “receive the grace in vain” as far as his life is concerned. We gain no benefit toward salvation from “the grace” if we live impurely. No, we are even harmed, since our sins now carry this heavier weight: after such knowledge and such a gift, we have gone back to our former vices. He does not say this yet, so as not to make his words harsh; he says only that we gain no benefit. Then he also reminds them of a prophecy, urging and pressing them to rouse themselves and lay hold of their own salvation.

“For,” he says, “he says, ‘At an acceptable time I listened to you, and on a day of salvation I helped you.’ Look, now is the acceptable time; look, now is the day of salvation.”

“The acceptable time” — what is this? The time of the gift, the time of grace, when it is decreed not that an account be demanded for our sins or a penalty exacted, but that besides being set free we should also enjoy ten thousand good things: righteousness, holiness, and all the rest. How much toil we would have had to go through to win this “time”! But look, without any toil of ours at all it has come, bringing forgiveness of everything that went before. That is why he calls it “acceptable”: because he accepted those who had done wrong in ten thousand things, and did not merely accept them, but raised them to the highest honor. It is like the arrival of a king: it is a time not for judgment, but for grace and pardon. That is why he calls it acceptable.

So while we are still in the contest, while we are working in the vineyard, while the eleventh hour is still left to us, let us come near and show a life to match; for it is easy as well. Whoever competes at such a time, when so great a gift has been poured out, so great a grace, will soon win the prizes. With kings here below, too, at the time of their festivals, when they appear in the robes of consuls, the man who brings a small offering receives large gifts; but on the days when they sit in judgment, great strictness and close examination are called for. So let us too compete in the time of this gift. It is a day of grace — of God’s grace. That is why even we will win the crown with ease. For if, when we were loaded with such great evils, he received us and set us free, will he not all the more accept us when we have been freed from them all and are contributing our own part?

Then, as is his constant habit — to set himself before them and tell them to take their example from him — he does the same here. [f]

Verse 3: “Giving no occasion of stumbling, so that our ministry may not be blamed.”

He persuades them not only by pointing to “the time,” but also by the example of those who had labored among them with success. And see how free of pride he is. He did not say, “Look at us, how we are this and that.” For the present he tells of his own conduct only to do away with accusation. And he names the two chief marks of a blameless life: “no” occasion, and in “anything.” And he did not say “accusation,” but what is far less, “occasion of stumbling”; that is, giving no one any ground against us for censure or condemnation, “so that our ministry may not be blamed” — that is, so that no one may get a hold on it. And again, he did not say, “so that it may not be accused,” but so that it may not have the least fault, and no one may be able to find fault with it in any particular.

Verse 4: “But in everything commending ourselves as ministers of God.” This is far greater. It is not the same thing to be free from accusation and to show such a character that in everything you appear as “ministers of God.” Nor is it the same thing to be clear of accusation and to be covered with praise. And he did not say “appearing,” but “commending” — that is, “proving.”

Then he tells how they came to be such. How, then? “In much endurance,” he says, laying the foundation of those good things. That is why he did not say simply “endurance,” but “much”; and he shows how great it was. To bear one or two things is no great matter. But he adds whole blizzards of trials when he says, “In afflictions, in necessities.” This is a step beyond affliction: when the evils cannot be escaped, and a kind of necessity of misfortune lies on a person that is hard to get free of. “In distresses” — he means either those of hunger and the lack of other necessities, or simply those of their trials.

Verse 5: “In floggings, in imprisonments, in being driven from place to place.”

Yet each of these by itself was unbearable: being flogged alone, being chained alone, being unable because of persecution to stay settled anywhere (for that is what “being driven from place to place” means). But when all of them attack, and all at once, think what kind of soul is needed! Then, alongside the things that came from outside, he names those he laid on himself.

Verses 5 and 6: “In labors, in sleepless nights, in fastings; in purity.”

By these words he points to the labors he toiled at as he went about and worked (Acts 18, verse 3), and to the nights in which he taught — or else to his working even through the nights (First Thessalonians 2, verse 9). And along with all this he did not neglect fasting either, although these things alone might have served in place of ten thousand fasts. By “purity” here he means either chastity again, or purity in general, or his being incorruptible, or even his preaching the good news free of charge.

“In knowledge.” What does “in knowledge” mean? In the wisdom that is given by God, which is truly knowledge — not like those who seem to be wise and boast of their acquaintance with the learning of the pagans, but are lacking in this. “In patience, in kindness.” For this too is a great mark of a noble soul: to bear everything patiently, even when provoked and goaded on every side. Then, to show where he got this from, he added:

“In the Holy Spirit.” “For it is in him that we do all these good works.” But notice when he mentions the help of the Holy Spirit: after he had set out what came from himself. And he seems to me to say something more by this. What is it? “We have been filled with an abundance of the Spirit, and by this too we give proof of our apostleship: we have been counted worthy of spiritual gifts.” For even if this is grace, still he himself was the cause of it, since by his good works and his toils he drew that grace to himself. And if someone should say that, beyond what has been said, he is showing that he gave no offense in his use of the Spirit’s gifts either, he would not miss his meaning. For those among them who had received the gift of tongues and were puffed up by it were blamed. It is possible even for someone who has received a gift of the Spirit not to use it rightly. “But not so with us. In the Spirit too — that is, in the gifts too — we have been blameless.”

“In genuine love.” This was the cause of all those good things. This made him what he was; this made the Spirit remain with him too, and by the Spirit’s help everything was done rightly by him.

Verse 7: “In the word of truth.”

This is something he says in many places: that “we have not gone on handling the word of God deceitfully, nor adulterating it.”

“In the power of God.” What he always does — ascribing nothing to himself but the whole to God, and crediting to him whatever he has done well — he has done here too. Since he had said great things, and claimed to have shown in everything a life beyond reproach and a lofty wisdom, he ascribes this to the Spirit and to God. For the things he had said were not ordinary. If it is hard even for a man who lives in quiet to do right and be beyond reproach, think of this man, harassed by such great trials and yet shining through them all — what a spirit he had! And he went through not only these things but far more, as he tells next. What is truly marvelous is not that he was beyond reproach while sailing through such mighty waves, nor that he endured everything nobly, but that he endured it all even with pleasure. He makes all this clear to us by the words that follow, saying, “By the weapons of righteousness on the right and on the left.”

Do you see his composure of soul, and how well braced his spirit is? He shows that afflictions are weapons that not only do not strike us down, but even fortify us and make us stronger. And he calls “left” the things that seem painful; for such are the things that bring the reward with them. Why, then, does he call them that? Either to fit the way most people think of them, or because God commanded us to pray that we may not enter into temptation. [l]

Verse 8: “By glory and dishonor, by evil report and good report.”

What are you saying? You enjoy honor, and you set this down as a great thing? “Yes.” Why so? To bear dishonor is a great thing, but to share in honor does not call for a vigorous soul. — No, it does call for a vigorous soul, and an exceedingly great one, so that the man who enjoys it may not be thrown and break his neck. That is why he glories in this as much as in the other, for he shone equally in both.

But how is it a weapon of righteousness? Because teachers being held in honor draws many to godliness. Besides, it is a proof of good works, and it glorifies God. And further, this shows the wise design of God: he brings in the preaching by means of opposite things. Consider. Was Paul in chains? This too was for the good news. For he says, “The things that happened to me have turned out for the advance of the good news, so that most of the brothers, made confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the word without fear” (Philippians 1, verses 12 and 14). Again, did he enjoy honor? This too, in its turn, made them more eager.

“By evil report and good report.” He bore nobly not only the things that happen to the body — the “afflictions” and everything he listed — but also those that touch the soul; for these, too, usually trouble us more than a little. Jeremiah, at any rate, after bearing many trials, gave way under these; when he was reproached, he said, “I will not prophesy, nor will I name the name of the Lord” (Jeremiah 20, verse 9). And David too complains of reproach in many places. Isaiah as well, after many things, gives this charge about it: “Do not fear the reproach of men, and do not be overcome by their reviling” (Isaiah 51, verse 7, in the Greek Old Testament).

And again, Christ too says to his disciples, “When they say every kind of evil against you falsely, rejoice and be very glad, for your reward is great in heaven” (Matthew 5, verses 11 and 12). Elsewhere too he says, “And leap for joy” (Luke 6, verse 23). But he would not have made the reward so great if it were not a heavy blow to the soul. In dangers the pain is both of the body and of the soul; but here it is of the soul alone. Many, at any rate, have fallen by these alone, and have lost their own souls. And to Job too, the reproaches of his friends seemed more painful than the worms and the sores. There is nothing — there is nothing — harder for people in affliction to bear than a word that can sting the soul.

That is why, along with the dangers and the toils, he names these too, saying, “By glory and dishonor.” Many of the Jews, at any rate, would not believe because of the glory they had from the crowd. They were afraid, not of being punished, but of being put out of the synagogue. That is why he says, “How can you believe, who receive glory from one another?” (John 5, verse 44). And we can see many who have despised every danger, yet have been beaten by glory.

“As deceivers, and yet true.” This is the same as “by evil report and good report.” [p]

Verse 9: “As unknown, and yet well known.” This is “by glory and dishonor.” For by some they were well known and much sought after, while others did not deign to know them at all.

“As dying, and look, we live.” That is, as under sentence of death and condemned, which was itself also a matter of dishonor. But he said this to show both the power of God, which is beyond words, and their own endurance. “As far as those who plotted against us were concerned, we died, and this is what everyone supposes; but by God’s help we escaped the dangers.” Then, to show also why God allows these things, he added, “As disciplined, and not killed.” He shows that the gain that came to them from their trials, even before the rewards, was great, and that their enemies did them a service against their will.

Verse 10: “As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.” “By those outside we are suspected of being in despair; but we pay no attention to them. Yes, we have our pleasure in full.” And he did not say “rejoicing” only, but added that it never ends, for he says, “always rejoicing.” What, then, could match this life, in which the joy grows greater even though such great dangers assault it?

“As poor, yet making many rich.” Some say that spiritual riches are meant here. But I would say that material riches are meant too, for they were rich in these as well, since, in a new kind of way, everyone’s houses were open to them. And he showed this too by what follows, saying, “As having nothing, and yet possessing all things.”

And how can this be? Or rather, how can the opposite be? For the man who possesses many things has nothing, and the man who has nothing possesses the goods of all. And not here only, but in the other points too, the opposites hold. If you want to see those who had nothing come to have all things, let us bring this very man forward into the middle, who commanded the world and was master not only of people’s goods but even of their very eyes. “If it had been possible,” he says, “you would have torn out your eyes and given them to me” (Galatians 4, verse 15).

He says these things to teach us not to be disturbed at the opinions of the crowd — though they call us deceivers, though they do not know us, though they count us condemned and appointed to death, sorrowful, poor, owning nothing, and though they think we are in despair when we are cheerful. For even the sun is not bright to the blind, and the pleasure of the sane cannot be understood by the mad. Only the faithful are right judges of these things; they are not pleased and pained by the same things as other people. If someone who knew nothing of the games saw a boxer covered with wounds and wearing a crown, he would think him in pain because of the wounds, not understanding the pleasure the crown gives him. So these people too, because they know what we suffer but do not know what we suffer it for, naturally suppose there is nothing beyond the sufferings. They see the wrestling and the dangers, but not the prizes and the crowns.

“As having nothing, and yet possessing all things” — the things of this life, and the things of the Spirit. The man whom the cities received as an angel, for whom they would have torn out their own eyes and given them to him (Galatians 4, verses 14 and 15), for whom they laid down their own necks (Romans 16, verse 4) — how could he not have everything that was theirs? And if you want to see the spiritual riches too, you will find him especially rich in these. The man who was so dear to the King of all that he even shared in things beyond words with the Lord of the angels (Second Corinthians 12, verse 4) — how was he not richer than all people, and how did he not have everything? Otherwise demons would not have been so subject to him, and suffering and disease would not have fled from him so.

So let us too, when we suffer anything for Christ’s sake, not merely bear it nobly but also rejoice. If we fast, let us leap for joy as though we were feasting; if we are insulted, let us dance as though we were praised; if we spend, let us feel as though we were gaining; if we give to the poor, let us count ourselves the ones who receive. Whoever does not give in this spirit will not give readily. So when you have a mind to scatter abroad, do not look only at this. In almsgiving, and in every other kind of virtue too, reckon not only the hardness of the toils but also the sweetness of the prizes — and above all, the one this wrestling is about, our Lord Jesus. Then you will enter the contest readily, and you will live your whole time in pleasure. For nothing gives pleasure like a good conscience. [t]

That is why Paul, though he was wounded every day, rejoiced and exulted; while people today, though they do not endure even a shadow of what he did, grieve and lament — for no other reason than that they do not have a mind full of heavenly philosophy. Tell me, why all the lamenting? Because you are poor and lack necessities? For this very reason you ought rather to lament that you weep — not because you are poor, but because you are small-souled; not because you have no money, but because you prize money so highly.

Paul died daily, yet he did not weep but even rejoiced; he fought with constant hunger, yet he did not grieve but even gloried in it. And do you weep because you are poor? He was anxious not for his own needs, but for the whole world’s. You have one household to care for; he cared for all those poor at Jerusalem, for those in Macedonia, for those in poverty everywhere — for those who gave to them no less than for those who received. His care for the world was of two kinds: that they should not lack necessities, and that they should be rich in spiritual things. Your starving children do not distress you as much as all the concerns of the faithful distressed him. And why do I say “of the faithful”? He was not free of care for the unfaithful either, but was so eaten up by it that he even wished to become accursed for their sake. But you, if a famine raged ten thousand times over, would never choose to die for anyone at all. And you care for one woman, but he for the churches throughout the world. For he says, “My anxiety for all the churches” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 28).

How long, then, my friend, will you trifle by comparing yourself with Paul, and not stop this great smallness of soul? We should weep, not when we are poor, but when we sin. This deserves lamentation; everything else deserves only laughter. “But this is not all that grieves me. It is also that so-and-so is in power, while I am without honor and cast aside.” And what of it? The blessed Paul too seemed to most people to be without honor and an outcast. “But he was Paul.” Plainly, then, it is not the nature of the things but your weakness of spirit that makes you despondent. So do not lament your poverty, but yourself for thinking this way; or rather, do not lament yourself, but reform yourself. Do not seek money, but pursue what makes people more cheerful of face than thousands in money: philosophy and virtue. Where these are, poverty does no harm; and where these are not, money does no good. For tell me, what good is it when people are rich, but have beggarly souls? You do not bewail yourself as much as that rich man bewails himself because he does not have the wealth of everyone. And even if he does not weep as you do, lay his conscience open, and you will see his wailing and lament.

Do you want me to show you your own riches, so that you will stop calling those rich in money happy? Do you see this sky here — the sun, this bright star shining far and wide that gladdens our eyes? Is not this too set out for everyone in common, and do not all enjoy it equally, poor and rich alike? And the wreath of the stars and the orb of the moon — are they not left to all equally? Or rather, if I may say something surprising, we poor enjoy these more than they do. For they are mostly steeped in drunkenness and spend their time in revels and deep sleep, so they do not even notice these things; they are always under cover and brought up in the shade. But the poor enjoy the luxury of these elements more than anyone. And again, if you look at the air, which is spread everywhere, you will see the poor man enjoying it both fresher and in greater abundance. Travelers and farmers enjoy these luxuries more than city dwellers; and among those same city dwellers, the craftsmen more than those who are drunk all day.

What about the earth — is not this too left to all in common? “No.” How can you say so? Tell me. “Because the rich man, even in the city, gets himself several quarter-acre lots and puts up long walls around them; and in the country he cuts off many portions for himself.” What of it? When he cuts them off, does he enjoy them alone? Not at all, however hard he may struggle for it. He is forced to share out the produce among everyone. He raises grain and wine and oil for you, and serves you everywhere. And those long walls and buildings, with his untold expense and his toils and drudgery, he is preparing for your use, taking from you only a small silver coin for so great a service. In the baths too, and everywhere else, you can see the same thing happening: the rich man bears the cost, and you enjoy it all with perfect ease. And he has no more enjoyment of the earth than you do; surely he does not fill ten stomachs while you fill only one. “But he eats costlier food.” Truly, this is no great advantage. Yet even here we will find that you have the better of it. You think this costliness enviable because the pleasure that comes with it is greater. But the pleasure is greater in the poor man’s case — and not pleasure only, but health too. The rich man’s one advantage is this: he makes his constitution weaker and gathers richer springs of disease. For the poor man’s diet is all ordered according to nature, but the rich man’s, through its excess, ends in corruption and disease.

If you like, let us look at this same thing in an example. Suppose a furnace had to be lit, and one man threw in silk garments and fine linens, many and past counting, and so kindled it, while another threw in logs of oak and pine. What advantage would the first have over the second? None; rather, a disadvantage. But what then? (For nothing stops us from turning the same illustration around another way.) Suppose one threw in logs, and another lit his fire under bodies. By which furnace would you like to stand — the one with the logs, or the one with the bodies? Plainly the one with the logs. That one burns as fire naturally does, and is a pleasant sight to those watching; while the other, with its steam and juices and smoke and the stench of the bones, would drive everyone away. [z]

Did you shudder to hear it, and loathe that furnace? The bellies of the rich are like it. In them you would find more rottenness than in that furnace, and stinking vapors, and foul humors, because indigestion abounds all over, in every part, as a result of their gorging. The natural heat is not enough to digest it all, but is smothered under it, and so the stuff lies there smoking above, and the unpleasantness it produces is great.

To what, then, should one compare those stomachs of theirs? Do not be offended at what I say; but if I am not telling the truth, prove me wrong. To what, then, should one compare them? For even what I have said is not enough to show their wretched state. I have found yet another likeness. What is it? In sewers, where refuse builds up — dung, hay, straw, stones, clay — blockages happen often, and then the stream of filth overflows at the top. So it happens with the stomachs of these people too. Being stopped up below, most of these vile streams spurt up above. But it is not so with the poor. Like springs that well up with pure streams and water gardens and parks, so their stomachs too are clean of such excesses. But such are not the stomachs of the rich — or rather, of those who live in luxury. They are full of humors, phlegm, bile, corrupted blood, putrid discharges, and other such matter. That is why no one who always lives in luxury can bear it even for a short time; his life will be spent in continual sickness.

So I would gladly ask them: what is food given for? That we may be destroyed, or nourished? That we may be sick, or strong? That we may be healthy, or sickly? Plainly, to nourish us. Why, then, do they use it the other way, creating disease and sickness in the body? But it is not so with the poor man. On the contrary, by his plain diet he buys himself health and vigor and strength. So do not weep over poverty, the mother of health, but even exult in it. And if you want to be rich, despise riches. For this — not having money, but not wanting to have it — is true wealth. If we can achieve this, we will be wealthier here than all the rich, and there we will obtain the good things to come. May we all attain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory, might and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.