Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew
Homily 33 — Matthew 10, verses 16 to 22
Matthew 10, verses 16 to 22
“Look, I am sending you out like sheep into the middle of wolves. So be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”
He had made them confident about the food they needed. He had opened everyone’s houses to them. He had given their coming in a dignity that would command respect, charging them not to enter as wanderers and beggars, but as people far more worthy of honor than those who received them. (He showed this by saying, “The worker deserves his wages”; by commanding them to find out who was worthy and to stay there; by telling them to greet those who received them; and by threatening those who would not receive them with those incurable evils.) Having, I say, driven out their anxiety in this way, and armed them with the display of miracles, and made them, as it were, all iron and diamond by freeing them from everything worldly and releasing them from every care of this life, he now goes on to speak of the evils that were to come on them as well — not only those that would happen soon, but also those that would come long afterward. From the very first, far in advance, he was preparing them for the war against the devil.
And many advantages came from this. First, they learned the power of his foreknowledge. Second, no one could suspect that these evils came on them because their Teacher was weak. Third, those who went through these things would not be dismayed by their coming unexpectedly and against all hope. Fourth, they would not be thrown into confusion by hearing these things at the very time of the cross. For that is just how they were affected at that time, when he also reproached them, saying, “Because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts; and none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’” And yet he had not yet said anything about himself — that he would be bound, and flogged, and put to death — so as not to confuse their minds with this as well. For the present he tells them in advance what will happen to themselves.
Then he wanted them to learn that this kind of warfare was new, and the battle order unheard of. He sends them out with nothing, with one tunic, barefoot, without a staff, without a belt or a bag, and tells them to be fed by those who receive them. So here too he did not stop his speech there, but to show his power beyond words, he says: “Even setting out like this, show the gentleness of sheep — and that though you are going to wolves; and not simply to wolves, but into the middle of wolves.” And he tells them to have not only the gentleness of sheep but also the harmlessness of the dove. “For this is how I will best show my might: when sheep get the better of wolves; when, in the middle of wolves and taking a thousand bites, they are not only not destroyed but even bring about a change in the wolves. That is a thing far greater and more wonderful than killing them — to alter their spirit and reform their mind. And this when they are only twelve, while the whole world is filled with wolves.”
So let us be ashamed, we who do the opposite, who fall on our enemies like wolves. For as long as we are sheep, we conquer: even if ten thousand wolves prowl around us, we overcome and win. But if we become wolves, we are beaten, for the help of our Shepherd leaves us. He does not feed wolves, but sheep. He forsakes you and withdraws, because you do not let his might be shown. For just as he counts the whole triumph his own when you are mistreated and show gentleness, so when you pursue it and strike back, you hide his victory.
But consider, I beg you, who they are that hear these commands, so hard and so heavy: timid men and ignorant, unlettered and untaught, obscure in every way, never trained in the laws of the pagans, men who did not readily show themselves in public places — fishermen, tax collectors, men full of countless shortcomings. If these things were enough to confound even the lofty and the great, how could they fail to cast down and dismay men who were untried in everything and had never entertained a single noble thought? Yet they did not cast them down.
Someone may say: “And no wonder, since he had given them power to cleanse lepers and to drive out demons.” I would answer this way: on the contrary, this very thing was especially likely to perplex them — that for all their raising of the dead they were to undergo these unbearable evils: trials and executions, the wars everyone would wage on them, the common hatred of the world. Such terrors were waiting for them while they themselves were working miracles!
What, then, is their comfort in all this? The power of the one who sends them. That is why he puts this before everything, saying, “Look, I am sending you.” This is enough to encourage you, enough to give you confidence, enough to make you fear none of those who attack you.
Do you see his authority? Do you see his sovereign right? Do you see his unconquerable might? What he means is something like this: “Do not be troubled that I send you among wolves and command you to be like sheep and like doves. I could have done the opposite. I could have let you suffer nothing terrible, and not be exposed to wolves like sheep; I could have made you more fearsome than lions. But it is better that it should be this way. This makes you more glorious too; this also proclaims my power.”
He said the same to Paul too: “My grace is enough for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” “It is I — mark this — who have made you to be this way.” For in saying, “I am sending you out like sheep,” he hints at this. “So do not lose heart. I know, I know for certain, that in this way more than any other you will be unconquerable to all.”
After this, so that they too would contribute something of their own, and so that everything would not seem to come from his grace, and they would not be thought to be crowned at random and for nothing, he says, “So be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.” It might be said: “But what good will our wisdom do in such great dangers? Or rather, how will we be able to have any wisdom at all, with so many waves breaking over us? Let a sheep be as wise as you please — when it is in the middle of wolves, and so many wolves, what will it be able to do? Let a dove be as harmless as you please — what good will it do, with so many hawks attacking it?” In animals, none at all; but in you, as much as can be.
But let us see what kind of wisdom he asks for here. The serpent’s, he says. That creature gives up everything, and even if its very body is being cut to pieces, it does not defend it very hard, so long as it saves its head. In the same way, he says, you too must give up everything except the faith — even if goods, body, and life itself must be yielded. For that is the head and the root. If that is kept safe, then even if you lose everything, you will get it all back with far greater splendor.
That is why he did not command them to be merely simple and single-hearted, or merely wise, but mixed the two together so that they would make up virtue. He took in the serpent’s wisdom so that we might not be wounded in our vital parts, and the dove’s harmlessness so that we might not retaliate against those who wrong us or take revenge on those who lay traps for us; for wisdom, again, is useless unless this is added to it. Now tell me, what could be stricter than these commands? Was it not enough to suffer wrong? “No,” he says, “I do not allow you even to be indignant.” For that is what “the dove” means. It is as if someone threw a reed into a fire and commanded it not to be burned by the fire, but to put the fire out.
But let us not be troubled. These things have come to pass; they have been fulfilled and shown in actual deeds. Men did become wise as serpents and harmless as doves — men not of some other nature, but of the same nature as ours.
So let no one think his commands impossible to keep. He, beyond all others, knows the nature of things. He knows that fierceness is not put out by fierceness, but by gentleness. And if you want to see this result in people’s actual deeds, read the book of the Acts of the Apostles. You will see how often, when the Jewish people had risen up against them and were sharpening their teeth, these men imitated the dove, answered with fitting gentleness, and so did away with their anger, quenched their madness, and broke their violence. For instance, when the Jews said, “Did we not strictly command you not to speak in this name?”, the apostles — though able to work any number of miracles — said and did nothing harsh, but made their defense with all gentleness, saying, “Whether it is right to listen to you rather than to God, you judge.”
Have you seen the harmlessness of the dove? Now see the wisdom of the serpent: “For we cannot help speaking of the things we know and have heard.” Do you see how we must be complete on every side, so as neither to be crushed by dangers nor provoked to anger?
Before Governors and Kings
That is why he also said, “Beware of people, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; and you will be brought before governors and kings for my sake, as a testimony to them and to the Gentiles.” Here again he is preparing them to be watchful, always assigning to them the suffering of wrong and leaving the doing of it to others, to teach you that the victory lies in suffering evil, and that this is how his glorious trophies are set up. He did not say at all, “You fight too, and resist those who want to harm you,” but only, “You will suffer the worst of evils.”
Oh, how great is the power of the one who speaks! How great the self-mastery of those who hear! We have every reason to marvel that they did not bolt from him at once on hearing these things — men who were apt to be startled at every sound, who had never gone further than that lake where they used to fish. How was it that they did not think it over and say to themselves: “So where are we to run after all this? The law courts are against us, the kings are against us, the governors, the synagogues of the Jews, the Gentile nations, the rulers and the ruled.” (For by this he not only warned them in advance about Palestine and the troubles there, but also revealed the wars throughout the world, saying, “You will be brought before kings and governors,” and so showing that he would later send them as heralds to the Gentiles too.) “You have made the world our enemy. You have armed against us everyone who lives on the earth — peoples, tyrants, kings. And what follows is far more fearful still, since because of us people are to become murderers of brothers, of children, of fathers.”
“For brother,” he says, “will hand over brother to death, and a father his child; and children will rise up against their parents and have them put to death.”
One might say: “How, then, will the rest of mankind believe, when they see children slain by their fathers because of us, and brothers by brothers, and everything filled with horrors? Will people not drive us out from every quarter as destructive demons, as accursed men and plagues on the world, when they see the earth filled with the blood of kin and with so many murderers? A fine peace, isn’t it, that we are to bring into people’s houses and give them, while we fill those same houses with so many killings! Why, even if there were a great number of us instead of twelve; if instead of being ‘unlearned and ignorant’ we were wise, trained in rhetoric, and powerful in speech; more than that, even if we were kings, with armies and great wealth — how could we have persuaded anyone while stirring up civil wars, and other wars far worse than those? Even if we were to despise our own safety, who else in the world will listen to us?”
But they neither thought nor said anything of the kind, nor did they demand any explanation of his commands; they simply gave way and obeyed. And this came not only from their own virtue but also from the wisdom of their Teacher. See how he attached some encouragement to each of the fearful things. In the case of those who would not receive them, he said, “It will be more bearable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that city.” So here too, when he had said, “You will be brought before governors and kings,” he added, “for my sake, as a testimony to them and to the Gentiles.” And this is no small comfort — that they were suffering these things both for Christ and to convict the Gentiles. So God is found everywhere doing his own work, even if no one pays heed. These things were a comfort to them, not because they wanted other people punished, but because they gave them ground for confidence. They could be sure that he was present with them everywhere, since he had both foretold and foreknown these things; and they knew that they were not to suffer all this as wicked men and plagues.
And along with these he adds another comfort, and no small one, saying, “But when they hand you over, do not worry about how or what you are to speak, for what you are to speak will be given to you in that hour. For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you.” So that they would not say, “How will we be able to persuade people when such things are happening?”, he tells them to be confident about their defense as well. Elsewhere he says, “I will give you a mouth and wisdom”; but here, “It is the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you,” raising them to the rank of the prophets. So it was when he had spoken of the power that was given that he then added the terrors too, the murders and the slaughters: “For brother will hand over brother to death,” he says, “and a father his child; and children will rise up against their parents and have them put to death.”
Nor did he stop even there, but added something still more fearful, enough to shatter a rock: “And you will be hated by everyone.” And here again the comfort is right at the door, for he says, “You will suffer these things for my name’s sake.” And with it comes another: “But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” From another angle, too, these things were enough to rouse their spirits. The power of the good news they preached was to blaze up so high that nature would be despised, kinship rejected, and the word preferred to everything, driving everything before it with power. “For if no tyranny of nature is strong enough to withstand your words, but it is broken up and trampled underfoot, what else will be able to get the better of you? Not that your life will be secure because these things will happen. No, you will have as your common enemies and foes everyone who lives in the whole world.”
The Philosophers and the Fishermen
Where now is Plato? Where is Pythagoras? Where is the long line of the Stoics? The first of these, after enjoying great honor, was so thoroughly refuted by events that he was even sold out of his country, and succeeded in none of his aims — not even with a single tyrant. Yes, he betrayed his disciples, and ended his life miserably. And the Cynics, filth that they were, have all passed away like a dream and a shadow.
And yet nothing of this kind ever happened to them. On the contrary, they were thought glorious for their pagan philosophy. The Athenians made a public monument of Plato’s letters, which Dion sent them. They spent all their time at their ease and had wealth in plenty. Aristippus, for instance, used to buy expensive prostitutes; another made a will that left no ordinary inheritance; another walked over his disciples when they had laid themselves down like a bridge; and the man from Sinope, they say, even behaved indecently in the marketplace.
Yes, these are the things they take pride in. But here there is nothing of the kind. Here there is strict chastity and perfect decency, and war against the whole world for truth and godliness, and being put to death every day — and their glorious trophies only afterward.
But someone may say: “They had men skilled in war too, like Themistocles and Pericles.” But these things too are children’s toys compared with the deeds of the fishermen. For what can you say? That he persuaded the Athenians to board their ships when Xerxes was marching on Greece? Here it was not Xerxes marching, but the devil with the whole world and his countless evil spirits, attacking these twelve men — not at one crisis only, but throughout their whole lives. And they prevailed and won the victory; and what was truly wonderful, not by killing their opponents, but by converting and reforming them.
For you should watch for this above all, all the way through: they did not kill or destroy those who plotted against them. They found them as bad as demons and made them rivals of the angels, freeing human nature from this evil tyranny. And as for those accursed demons that were throwing everything into confusion, they drove them out of the marketplaces and the houses — or rather, even out of the wilderness itself. The companies of monks whom they have planted everywhere bear witness to this, clearing out not only the inhabited land but even the uninhabited.
And what is more wonderful still, they did not do this by meeting their enemies on equal terms; they accomplished it all by enduring evil. People had them right in their hands — twelve unlearned men — binding them, flogging them, dragging them about, and could not stop their mouths. As it is impossible to bind a sunbeam, so it was impossible to bind their tongue. And the reason was that “it was not they” themselves “who spoke,” but the power of the Spirit. That is how Paul overcame Agrippa, and Nero, who surpassed all men in wickedness. “For the Lord,” he says, “stood by me and strengthened me, and rescued me from the mouth of the lion.”
But you too, admire them for this: when they were told, “Do not worry,” they believed it and accepted it, and none of the terrors dismayed them. And if you say he gave them encouragement enough by saying, “It will be the Spirit of your Father who speaks,” this is the very thing that amazes me most about them: that they did not hesitate or look for a way out of their dangers — and that when they were to suffer these things not for two or three years, but all their lives. For the saying “The one who endures to the end will be saved” hints at this.
For his will is that not only his own part should be contributed, but that good deeds should be done by them as well. See, for instance, how from the very first part is his and part is his disciples’. To work miracles is his; to provide themselves with nothing is theirs. Again, to open everyone’s houses came from the grace from above; to ask for no more than they needed came from their own self-denial, “for the worker deserves his wages.” That they bestowed peace was God’s gift; that they inquired for the worthy and did not go in to everyone without distinction was their own self-mastery. Again, to punish those who did not receive them was his; to withdraw from them gently, without abusing or insulting them, was the apostles’ gentleness. To give the Spirit and free them from worry was the work of the one who sent them; to become like sheep and doves and to bear everything nobly came from their own calm and good sense. To be hated and not lose heart, and to endure, was their own; to save those who endured was the work of the one who sent them.
That is why he said, “The one who endures to the end will be saved.” Most people are usually eager at the start but lose heart afterward; that is why he says, “I require the end.” What use are seeds that flourish at first and wither a little later? So it is lasting endurance that he asks of them. I mean, so that no one could say that he did the whole thing himself, and that it was no wonder they turned out so well, since they suffered nothing unbearable, he says to them: “You need endurance on your part too. For even if I rescue you from the first dangers, I am keeping you for others that are harder; after these, still others will follow; and you will never stop having traps laid for you as long as you draw breath.” That is what he hinted at in saying, “But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”
That is why, although he said, “Do not worry about what you are to speak,” elsewhere he says, “Be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.” That is, as long as the contest is among friends, he commands us to give it thought as well. But when there is a fearsome court, and frenzied crowds, and terrors on every side, he gives the power from himself, so that they may take courage and speak out, and not lose heart or betray the righteous cause.
For it truly was a very great thing for a man who spent his days around lakes, and hides, and the tax booth — when tyrants sat on their thrones, with satraps and guards standing by them, swords drawn, and everyone on their side — to come in alone, in chains, head bowed, and still be able to open his mouth. For they did not allow them to speak or make any defense of their teachings; they set about torturing them to death as common plagues of the world. As it is written, “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here too”; and again, “They preach things contrary to Caesar’s decrees, saying that Jesus Christ is king.”
Everywhere the law courts were already filled with suspicions like these, and much power from above was needed for them to show both the truth of the teaching they preached and that they were not breaking the common laws. They must not, in their eagerness to speak of their teaching, fall under suspicion of overturning the laws; nor again, in their eagerness to show that they were not overturning the common government, spoil the perfection of their teaching. You will see all this done with all the care it needed, in Peter and in Paul and in all the rest. Yes, they were accused all over the world as rebels, innovators, and revolutionaries; and yet they both drove off this impression and clothed themselves with the opposite one, so that everyone celebrated them as saviors, guardians, and benefactors. And they achieved all this by their great endurance. That is why Paul said, “I die every day”; and he went on “being in danger” to the end.
What, then, must we deserve, when we have such great examples before us and yet, in time of peace, give ourselves up to softness and slackness? No one is making war on us, and it is all too plain that we are being slain. We lose heart though no one is chasing us. We are asked only to be saved in peacetime, and we are not equal even to that. They, when the world was on fire and the pyre was being kindled over the whole earth, went in and snatched out of the very middle of the flames those who were burning. But you are not able even to keep yourself safe. What confidence, then, will we have? What leniency can we expect?
There are no floggings, no prisons, no rulers, no synagogues, nothing else of that kind set against us. Quite the opposite: we are the ones who rule and prevail. The kings are godly, and there are many honors for Christians, places of precedence, distinctions, exemptions, and even so we do not prevail. They were led out to execution every day, teachers and disciples alike, and bore countless floggings and constant brandings, and yet they lived in greater delight than those who dwell in Paradise. We have suffered nothing of the kind, not even in a dream, and we are softer than any wax.
Someone will say: “But they worked miracles.” Did that keep them from the whip, then? Did it free them from persecution? No. In fact this is the astonishing thing: they often suffered these things at the hands of the very people they had helped, and even so they were not thrown into confusion, though all they received was evil in return for good. But you, if you do anyone some small kindness and are then repaid with something unpleasant, are thrown into confusion, you are upset, and you regret what you did.
Now if it should happen, and I pray that it may not happen and may never come about, that there is a war against the churches and a persecution, imagine how great the ridicule will be, how bitter the reproaches! And that is only natural. For when no one trains in the wrestling school, how will he distinguish himself in the contests? What athlete who is not used to his trainer will be able, when he is called to the Olympic contests, to show anything great and noble against his opponent? Ought we not to wrestle and fight and run every day? Do you not see the ones called pentathletes? When they have no opponents, they fill a sack with a great deal of sand, hang it up, and try out their full strength on it. And those who are still younger practice fighting their enemies on the bodies of their companions.
These are the ones you should imitate: practice the wrestling of self-denial. For there are many things that provoke us to anger, stir us to lust, and kindle a great fire. Stand firm, then, against your passions. Bear the pains of the mind nobly, so that you may endure the pains of the body as well.
This is how it was with the blessed Job. If he had not trained himself well before his contests, he would not have shone so brightly in them. If he had not practiced never giving way to despair, he would have let slip some rash word when his children died. As it was, he stood firm against every assault: against the ruin of his fortune and the destruction of such great wealth, against the loss of his children, against his wife’s pity, against the plagues on his body, against the reproaches of his friends, against the insults of his servants.
And if you would like to see how he trained, listen to him telling how he used to despise wealth: “If I did rejoice,” he says, “because my wealth was great; if I set up gold in a heap; if I put my trust in a precious stone.” That is why he was not thrown into confusion when these things were taken away: he did not long for them even when he had them.
Listen also to how he handled the matter of his children. He did not give way to undue softness, as we do, but required careful watchfulness of them in everything. For if he offered sacrifice even for their hidden sins, imagine how strict a judge he was of the ones that were plain to see.
And if you would like to hear about his efforts at self-control too, listen to him when he says, “I made a covenant with my eyes, that I would not think about a young woman.” That is why his wife did not break his spirit: he loved her even before this, not beyond measure, however, but as is due to a wife.
That is why I am even led to wonder how it ever entered the devil’s head to stir up the contest, when he knew about Job’s earlier training. How did it occur to him, then? The monster is wicked, and he never despairs. And this turns out to be a very great condemnation for us: he never gives up hope of destroying us, but we despair of our own salvation.
As for bodily disfigurement and humiliation, notice how he trained himself for those. He himself had never undergone anything of the kind, but had gone on living in wealth and luxury and every other kind of splendor, and so he used to picture to himself, one by one, the disasters of other people. He made this plain when he said, “For the thing I greatly feared has come upon me, and what I was afraid of has come to me.” And again: “But I wept for every helpless man, and I groaned when I saw a man in distress.”
So because of this, nothing that happened threw him into confusion, none of those great and unbearable evils. For I am not asking you to look at the ruin of his property, or at the loss of his children, or at that incurable disease, or at his wife’s scheme against him, but at things far harder to bear than these.
Someone will say: “And what did Job suffer that was harder to bear than these? From his story there is nothing more than these for us to learn.” It is because we are asleep that we do not learn it. Whoever is eager, and searches carefully for the pearl, will come to know many more details than these. For the things that were harder to bear, and more likely to fill him with perplexity, were different ones.
First, he knew nothing certain about the kingdom of heaven and the resurrection; and he spoke of this too, lamenting: “For I will not live forever, that I should suffer long.” Next, he was aware in himself of many good works. Third, he was aware of nothing evil in himself. Fourth, he supposed that he was suffering all this at God’s hands; or if at the devil’s, that too was enough to make him stumble. Fifth, he heard his friends accusing him of wickedness: “For you have not been flogged as much as your sins deserve,” they say. Sixth, he saw people living in wickedness prospering and gloating over him. Seventh, he had no one else to look to who had ever suffered anything like it.
And if you would like to learn how great these things are, consider our own situation now. We are looking forward to a kingdom, and hoping for a resurrection and for blessings beyond words. We are aware in ourselves of countless evil deeds. We have so many examples, and we share in so high a philosophy. And yet if some people lose a little gold, and often gold they took by violence in the first place, they think life is not worth living. And this with no wife pressing hard on them, not bereaved of their children, not reproached by friends, not insulted by servants, but with many people, rather, to comfort them, some with words and some with deeds. Then of what noble crowns must he not be worthy, who saw what he had gathered by honest labor snatched away from him for nothing and without reason, and after all that underwent trials without number, falling on him like sleet, and yet through it all stood unmoved, and offered to the Lord the thanksgiving due to him for everything?
Why, even if no one had spoken any of the other taunts, his wife’s words alone would have been enough to shake a rock to its foundations. Look at her cunning. No mention of money, none of camels and flocks and herds, for she knew her husband’s self-command where these were concerned, but of what was harder to bear than all of them, I mean their children. And she deepens the tragedy, and adds to it the weight of her own influence. Now if women have often won men over in many things even when those men were wealthy and suffering no distress, imagine how brave that soul was which drove her back when she attacked him with such powerful weapons, and which trampled underfoot the two most tyrannical passions, desire and pity.
And yet many who have conquered desire have given way to pity. The noble Joseph, for example, held down the most tyrannical of pleasures and drove back that woman who belonged to another man, though she plied him with countless schemes. But his tears he could not hold back: when he saw his brothers who had wronged him, he was all on fire with that feeling, quickly threw off the mask, and revealed the part he had been playing. But when it is his own wife, first of all, and her words are pitiful, and the moment is in her favor, and on top of that there are his wounds and his blows and those countless waves of disaster, how can anyone fail to declare, and rightly, that the soul that stood unmoved in so great a storm was firmer than any diamond?
Let me speak boldly: even the apostles, if they were not inferior to this blessed man, were at least not greater than he. For they were comforted by suffering for Christ, and this medicine was enough to relieve them every day. That is why the Lord puts it in everywhere, saying, “for me,” “for my sake,” and, “If they call me, the master of the house, Beelzebub.” But Job had none of this encouragement, none of the encouragement of miracles, none of the encouragement of grace; for he did not have so great a power of the Spirit either. And what is greater still, he had been brought up in great comfort, not among fishermen and tax collectors and people who lived plainly, but in the enjoyment of great honor, and then he suffered all that he suffered. And the thing that seemed hardest to bear in the case of the apostles, he underwent as well: he was hated by friends, by servants, by enemies, by those who had received kindness from him. And the sacred anchor, the harbor without waves, I mean the words said to the apostles, “for my sake,” he never had in sight.
I admire the three young men too, because they braved the furnace and stood up against a tyrant. But listen to what they say: “We do not serve your gods, nor worship the image that you have set up.” The greatest encouragement they had was this: to know for certain that it was for God they were suffering all they suffered. But this man did not know that it was all a contest and a wrestling match; had he known it, he would not have felt what was happening.
At any rate, when he heard, “Do you think that I have spoken my oracles to you for nothing, or that you might be shown to be righteous?” see how at once, at a bare word, he breathed again, how he counted himself as nothing, how he considered that he had not even suffered what he had suffered, saying, “Why do I plead any longer, when I have been admonished and rebuked by the Lord, hearing such things, when I am nothing?” And again: “I had heard of you before, by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye has seen you. That is why I have counted myself worthless and have melted away, and I consider myself earth and ashes.”
This courage, then, this self-restraint, of a man who lived before the law and before grace, let us also imitate, we who live after the law and after grace, so that we too may be able to share the eternal dwellings with him. May we all attain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the victory forever and ever. Amen.