Homilies on Second Corinthians
Homily 23 — Second Corinthians 11, verses 1 to 12
Second Corinthians 11, verses 1 to 12
“I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness — and indeed you do bear with me.”
He is about to enter on his own praises, and so he uses a great deal of correction in advance. And he does this not once or twice, although the necessity of the subject, and what he had often said, would have been excuse enough for him. For a man who remembers sins that God did not remember, and who for that reason says he was unworthy of the very name of apostle, is seen clearly, even by the most senseless, not to be saying what he is now going to say for the sake of glory. Indeed, if one must say something startling, even this would do particular damage to his glory: his speaking about himself at all. And to most people it is offensive. Still, he did not timidly weigh any of these things; he looked to one thing only, the salvation of his hearers.
But so that he might not harm the unthinking by this — by saying great things about himself, I mean — he uses these many preparatory corrections out of abundant caution, and says, “I wish you would bear with me” while I play the fool in some small things; or rather, “you do indeed bear with me.” Do you see his wisdom? When he says “I wish,” he is leaving the matter in their hands; but when he goes further and states that they do, he is showing great confidence in their affection, and declaring that he both loves and is loved. Or rather, it is not from bare love alone, but from a kind of warm and almost frenzied passion, that he says they ought to bear with him even when he plays the fool. That is why he added, “For I am jealous over you with a jealousy of God.” He did not say, “for I love you,” but used a word far more intense than that. For it is souls that burn ardently for those they love that are jealous, and jealousy cannot be born of anything but intense affection.
Then, so that they would not think he wanted their affection for the sake of power or honor or wealth or anything else of that kind, he added, “with a jealousy of God.” For God too is said to be jealous — not so that anyone should imagine passion in him, for God is not subject to passion, but so that all may know that he does everything out of regard for nothing but those over whom he is jealous: not to gain anything for himself, but to save them. Among human beings, jealousy does not arise from this cause, but for the sake of their own peace: not because the ones they love are being outraged, but because those who love them are afraid of being wounded, of being outshone in the good graces of the beloved, and of standing lower in their affections. But here it is not so. “I do not care,” he says, “about standing lower in your esteem, but about seeing you corrupted. For such is God’s jealousy, and such is mine too: intense and pure at once.” And there is this further reason, a compelling one:
“For I betrothed you to one husband, as a pure virgin.” “So I am jealous not on my own account, but for him to whom I betrothed you.” For the present time is the time of betrothal, but the time of the wedding is another, when they sing, “The Bridegroom has risen up.” Oh, what unheard-of things! In the world, women are virgins before the marriage, but after the marriage no longer. Here it is not so. Even if they were not virgins before this marriage, after the marriage they become virgins. So the whole church is a virgin. For he is addressing everyone, husbands and wives alike, when he speaks this way.
But let us see what he brought when he betrothed us: what kind of wedding gifts. Not gold, not silver, but the kingdom of heaven. That is why he also said, “We are ambassadors on behalf of Christ,” and pleads with them, as one about to receive the bride. What happened in Abraham’s case was a type of this (Genesis 24, verse 4, and the verses that follow). He sent his faithful servant to seek a Gentile girl in marriage; and in this case God sent his own servants to seek the church in marriage for his Son — the prophets, from long ago, saying, “Listen, daughter, and consider, and forget your own people and your father’s house, and the King will desire your beauty” (Psalm 45, verses 10 and 11).
Do you see the prophet too arranging the betrothal? Do you see the apostle expressing the same thing himself with great boldness, and saying, “I betrothed you to one husband, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to Christ”? Do you see his wisdom again? Having said, “You ought to bear with me,” he did not say, “for I am your teacher, and I am not speaking for my own sake.” Instead he uses this expression, which gave them a special dignity: he puts himself in the place of the woman who arranges the match, and them in the rank of the bride. And he adds these words:
Verse 3: “But I am afraid that perhaps, just as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is toward Christ.” “For although the ruin would be yours alone, the sorrow is mine as well.” And consider his wisdom. He does not state that they have been corrupted — although they had been, as he showed when he said, “When your obedience is complete” (Second Corinthians 10, verse 6), and, “I will mourn over many who have sinned already” (Second Corinthians 12, verse 21). Still, he does not leave them to grow shameless. That is why he says, “perhaps.” This word neither condemns nor keeps silent; for neither course was safe, whether to speak out plainly or to hide the matter forever. So he uses this middle form and says, “perhaps.” It is the language neither of someone who entirely distrusts them nor of someone who entirely relies on them, but of someone standing between the two.
In this way, then, he softened the blow. But by mentioning that old story he threw them into an indescribable terror and cut them off from all forgiveness. For although the serpent was malicious and she was senseless, none of these things rescued the woman from punishment. “Beware, then,” he says, “that this is not your fate, with nothing to shield you. For he too deceived by promising greater things.” From this it is plain that these men too deceived by boasting and puffing themselves up. And this can be gathered not only from this passage but also from what he says afterward. Verse 4: “For if the one who comes preaches another Jesus, whom we did not preach, or if you receive a different Spirit, which you did not receive, or a different good news, which you did not accept, you do well to bear with him.”
And he does not say, “lest, as Adam was deceived,” but shows that men who are misled in this way are no more than women; for being deceived is the part of a woman. Nor did he say, “so you too may be deceived,” but, keeping up the metaphor, he says, “so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is toward Christ.” “From simplicity, I say, not from wickedness. It is neither out of wickedness nor out of your not believing, but out of simplicity.” Yet not even in such circumstances do the deceived have a right to be forgiven, as Eve showed. And if simplicity does not earn forgiveness, much less will it earn it when someone is led astray in this way through empty glory.
Another Jesus, Another Spirit
“For if the one who comes preaches another Jesus, whom we did not preach.” He shows by this that their deceivers were not Corinthians, but people from somewhere else who had been corrupted beforehand. That is why he says, “the one who comes.”
“If you receive a different Spirit, or a different good news, which you did not accept, you do well to bear” with him. What are you saying? You who said to the Galatians, “If anyone preaches to you any good news other than what you received, let him be accursed” — do you now say, “you do well to bear” with him? And yet, on that ground, one ought not to bear with such people but to recoil from them; while if they say the same things, one ought to bear with them. How then can you say, in effect, “Because they say the same things, you ought not to bear with them”? For he is saying, “If they said other things, you would do well to bear with them.”
So let us pay close attention. The danger is great and the cliff is steep if people run past this carelessly, for what is said here opens the door to every heresy. What, then, is the sense of these words? Those men boasted as if the apostles had taught incompletely, and they themselves were bringing in something more. For it is likely that, with a great deal of idle talk, they were bringing in senseless rubbish to overlay these teachings. That is why he mentioned the serpent, and Eve, who was deceived in just this way, by the hope of gaining more. He was hinting at this in the former letter too, when he said, “Already you have become rich; you have reigned as kings without us,” and again, “We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ” (First Corinthians 4, verses 8 and 10).
Since, then, it was likely that they were using the wisdom from outside and talking a great deal of idle talk, what he says is this: “If these men said something more, and preached a different Christ, one who ought to have been preached but whom we left out, ‘you do well to bear’ with them.” That is why he added, “whom we did not preach.” “But if the chief points of the faith are the same, what more do you have from them? Whatever they may say, they will say nothing more than we have said.”
And notice how precisely he states the case. He did not say, “if the one who comes says anything more” — for they did say something more, holding forth with more authority and with great beauty of language. So he did not say this. What, then? “If the one who comes preaches another Jesus” — a thing that had no need of that array of words; “or you receive a different Spirit” — for there was no need of words in this case either — that is to say, if he makes you richer in grace; “or a different good news, which you did not accept” — nor did this need words — “you do well to bear” with him.
But consider, please, how everywhere he adds a qualification that shows nothing very great, indeed nothing more at all, had been brought in by them. When he had said, “If the one who comes preaches another Jesus,” he added, “whom we did not preach.” To “you receive a different Spirit” he joined, “which you did not receive.” To “or a different good news” he added, “which you did not accept.” By all these he shows that it is right to pay attention to them, not simply if they say something more, but if they said something more that ought to have been said and that we left out. But if it ought not to have been said, and for that reason was not said by us — or if they say only the same things as we do — why do you gape at them in admiration?
“And yet if they say the same things, why do you hinder them?” Because they use hypocrisy and bring in strange teachings. For the present he does not say this, but afterward he states it, when he says, “They disguise themselves as apostles of Christ” (verse 13). For the present he draws the disciples away from their authority by less offensive arguments; and he does this not out of envy toward those men, but to keep these disciples safe. Otherwise, why does he not hinder Apollos, who was also “a learned man, mighty in the Scriptures” (Acts 18, verse 24; First Corinthians 16, verse 12), but even pleads with him, and promises he will send him? Because along with his learning, Apollos also kept the teachings intact; with these men it was the reverse. That is why he wars against them, and blames the disciples for gaping at them in admiration, saying: “If we left out anything that should have been said, and they supplied it, we do not stop you from paying attention to them. But if everything has been fully completed by us and nothing left lacking, how is it that they have caught you?” That is why he also adds, in verse 5: “For I consider that I am not in the least behind those very eminent apostles.”
He is no longer comparing himself with those men, but with Peter and the rest. “So if they know more than I do, they know more than those apostles too.” And notice how here too he shows modesty. He did not say, “The apostles said nothing more than I did.” What, then? “I consider” — that is, I think — “that I am not in the least behind those very eminent apostles.” For this too seemed to point to an inferiority in him: that those who came before him had the greater name and were held in greater respect, and these men were intending to worm their way in. So he makes this comparison of himself with them, with the dignity that suits him. That is why he also mentions them with praise, speaking not simply of “the apostles” but of “the very eminent” ones, meaning Peter and James and John.
Verse 6: “But even if I am unskilled in speech, I am not so in knowledge.” Those who corrupted the Corinthians had the advantage in this, that they were not unskilled; so he mentions this too, showing that he was not ashamed of it but even took pride in it. And he did not say, “Even if I am unskilled in speech, so are they,” for that would have seemed to accuse them along with himself, and to exalt these men. Instead he overthrows the thing itself, the wisdom from outside. Indeed, in his former letter he fights hard over this very thing, saying that it not only contributes nothing to the preaching but even casts a shadow over the glory of the cross (First Corinthians 2, verse 1). For he says, “I did not come to you with excellence of speech or of wisdom, so that the cross of Christ would not be made empty” (First Corinthians 1, verse 17), and many other things of the same kind — because in knowledge they were unskilled, which is the worst unskillfulness of all.
So when it was necessary to make a comparison in things that were great, he compares himself with the apostles. But when it came to showing something that seemed to be a deficiency, he no longer does this; he grapples with the thing itself and shows that it was an advantage. When no necessity pressed him, he says he is “the least of the apostles,” and not worthy even of the title. But here again, when the occasion called for it, he says he is “not in the least behind those very eminent apostles,” for he knew this would help the disciples most. That is why he also adds, “Indeed, in everything we have made it plain among all people, toward you.”
Here again he is accusing the false apostles of “walking in craftiness” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 2). He said this of himself before too: that he did not live by outward show, nor preach “handling the word deceitfully” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 2) and corrupting it. But those men were one thing and appeared to be another. Not so he. That is why he everywhere takes a high tone, as one who does nothing with an eye to people’s opinion and hides nothing about himself. As he said before, “by the open showing of the truth, commending ourselves to everyone’s conscience” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 2), so now again he says, “in everything we have made it plain to you.” But what does this mean? “We are unskilled,” he says, “and we do not hide it. We receive from some people, and we do not keep it secret. We receive, then, from you, and we do not pretend that we do not receive, as they do when they receive; we make everything we do plain to you.” This was the conduct of someone who had great confidence in them and told them everything truthfully. That is why he also calls them witnesses, saying now, “among all people, toward you,” and before, “For we write nothing else to you than what you read or even acknowledge” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 13).
Why Paul Took Nothing from Corinth
Then, after defending his own conduct, he goes on to speak with severity. Verse 7: “Or did I commit a sin in humbling myself so that you might be exalted?” And in explanation of this he adds, in verse 8: “I robbed other churches, taking wages from them so that I might serve you.”
What he says is this: “I lived in hardship.” For that is the force of “humbling myself.” “Can you then hold this against me? Is this why you lift yourselves up against me — because I humbled myself by begging, by enduring hardship, by suffering, by going hungry, so that you might be exalted?” And how were they exalted by his hardship? They were built up more, and did not stumble. This might well be a very great charge against them and a reproach for their weakness: that it was not possible to lead them on in any other way than by his first humbling himself. “Do you then hold it against me that I humbled myself? But by it you were exalted.” For since he said earlier too that they accused him of being lowly when present and bold when absent, in defending himself he strikes them again here, saying, “This too was for your sakes.”
“I robbed other churches.” Here at last he speaks reproachfully, but his earlier words keep these from seeming offensive, for he had said, “Bear with me in a little foolishness.” And before all his other achievements he makes this his first boast. For this is what worldly people look at most, and it was this that those opponents of his were especially proud of. That is why he does not start with the subject of his dangers, nor with his miracles, but with this: his contempt for money, because they prided themselves on it. At the same time he also hints that they were wealthy.
But what is admirable in him is this. Though he could have said that he was even supported by his own hands, he did not say it. He says what especially shamed them and yet was no praise of himself, namely, “I took from others.” And he did not say “took,” but “robbed,” that is, “I stripped them and made them poor.” And what is surely greater, it was not for luxuries but for his necessities; for when he says “wages,” he means the support he needed to live. And what is more painful still: “so that I might serve you.” “We preach to you; and when I ought to be supported by you, I have had this at other people’s hands.” The charge is twofold, or rather threefold: that while he was living among them and serving them, and needed only the support necessary to live, he had others supplying his wants. How great the excess — of neglect on the one side, and of zeal on the other! For those others sent to him even when he was far away, while these did not support him even when he was among them.
Then, because he had lashed them hard, he quietly eases the force of his rebuke again, saying, in verse 9: “And when I was present with you and was in need, I was not a burden to anyone.” For he did not say, “You did not give to me,” but, “I did not take,” for as yet he is sparing them. Yet even in this softened language he strikes them again covertly, for the word “present” is very pointed, and so is “in need.” So that they could not say, “What does it matter, if you had enough?” he added, “and was in need.”
“I was not a burden” to you. Here again he hits them gently, as people who made such contributions reluctantly and felt them a burden. Then comes the reason too, full of accusation and calculated to stir their jealousy. That is why he brought it in, not as a main point, but as telling them where and from whom he had his support, so as to stir them up again, without arousing their suspicion, on the matter of almsgiving:
“For what I lacked,” he says, “the brothers who came from Macedonia supplied.” Do you see how he spurs them on again by bringing forward those who had served him? When he said, “I robbed other churches,” he first made them want to know who these could be; then he names them as well, which would also spur them on to almsgiving. For in this way he persuades those who had been beaten by them in supporting the apostle not to be beaten in the help they gave the poor as well. He says this in his letter to the Macedonians themselves too: “For even in my needs you sent to me once and again, in the beginning of the good news” (Philippians 4, verses 16 and 15). And this too was a very great commendation of them: that they shone from the very beginning.
But notice how everywhere he speaks of his “need,” and nowhere of anything beyond it. Now, by saying “present” and “in need,” he showed that he ought to have been supported by the Corinthians; and by the words, “they supplied what I lacked,” he shows that he did not even ask. And he gives a reason that was not the real one. What is it? That he had received from others: “For what I lacked,” he says, “those who came supplied.” “This is why I was not a burden — not because I had no confidence in you.” And yet it is for this latter reason that he acts as he does, and he shows it in what follows. But he does not say it plainly; he throws it into the shade and leaves it to the conscience of his hearers. And he gives proof of it covertly in what follows, saying, “And in everything I kept myself from being a burden, and so I will keep myself.” “For do not think,” he says, “that I say these things so that I may receive.”
Now the words “so I will keep myself” are sharper, if he still has no confidence in them but has given up once for all the idea of receiving anything from them. He shows, moreover, that they even considered this a burden; that is why he said, “I have kept myself from being a burden, and so I will keep myself.” He says this in his former letter too: “I am not writing this so that it may be done so for me; for it would be better for me to die than that anyone should make my boasting empty” (First Corinthians 9, verse 15). And here again: “I have kept myself from being a burden to you, and so I will keep myself.”
Then, so that he will not seem to be saying these things to win them over more easily to giving, he says in verse 10: “As the truth of Christ is in me.”
‘Do not think that I have spoken this so that I may receive, or so that I may draw you on all the more. For,’ he says, ‘as the truth is in me, “No one will stop me from this boasting in the regions of Achaia.”’ So that no one would think, again, that he is hurt by this, or that he says these things in anger, he even calls the thing a “boasting.” In his former letter too he dressed it up in the same kind of terms. There also, so as not to wound them, he says, “What then is my reward? That when I preach the good news, I may make the good news of Christ free of charge” (First Corinthians 9, verse 18). And as there he calls it a “reward,” so here he calls it a “boasting,” so that they will not be too ashamed at what he said, as though he had been asking and they had not given to him. ‘For what if you did want to give?’ he says. ‘Even so, I do not accept it.’ The expression “will not stop me” is a metaphor taken from rivers, or from the report of his receiving nothing, as though it ran everywhere. ‘You do not stop this freedom of mine to speak boldly by your giving.’ But he did not say, ‘You will not stop it,’ which would have been too cutting, but “No one will stop me in the regions of Achaia.” Yet this too was like dealing them a deadly blow, and it was very likely to dishearten and pain them, since they were the only people he refused to take from. ‘If he made this his boast, he ought to make it so everywhere. But if he does it only among us, perhaps it is because of our weakness.’ So that they would not reason like this and lose heart, see how he corrects it.
Verse 11: “Why? Because I do not love you? God knows.”
It is done quickly, and in an easy way. But even so, he did not free them of those charges. He did not say, ‘You are not weak,’ or, ‘You are strong,’ but, “I love you,” which made the charge against them much heavier. For his not receiving from them, since they felt giving to be a very great burden, was a proof of special love toward them. So he acted in two opposite ways out of love: he both received and did not receive. But the difference came from the disposition of the givers. And he did not say, ‘I do not take from you because I love you so much,’ for this would have carried a charge of weakness against them and thrown them into distress. Instead he turned what he said toward another reason. What is it?
Verse 12: “That I may cut off occasion from those who desire an occasion; that in what they boast of, they may be found just as we are.”
Since this was what they were eagerly looking for, some handle against him, it was necessary to take this away too. For this is the one point they pride themselves on. So that they would not have any advantage at all, it was necessary to set this right, since in everything else they came off worse. For, as I have said, nothing builds up worldly people so much as receiving nothing from them. That is why the devil in his craftiness dropped this bait above all, when he wanted to harm them in other ways. But it seems to me that even this was done in hypocrisy. That is why he did not say, ‘in what they have done well,’ but what? “In what they boast of,” which was also a way of mocking their boasting, since they boasted even of what they were not. But a person of noble spirit ought not only to refrain from boasting of what he does not have, but not to boast even of what he does have, as this blessed holy man used to do, and as the patriarch Abraham did when he said, “But I am earth and ashes” (Genesis 18, verse 27). Since he had no sins to speak of, but shone with good works, he ran about in every direction and found no very great handle against himself, and so he falls back on his nature. And since the name “earth” somehow carries a certain dignity, he added to it the name “ashes.” That is why another says, “Why is earth and ashes proud?” (Sirach 10, verse 9).
So do not tell me about the bloom of the face, or the neck held high, or the cloak, and the horse, and the attendants. Think where all these things end, and set that against them. And if you tell me of what the eye sees, I too will tell you of things in paintings far brighter than these. But just as we do not admire those for their appearance, since we see what their nature is, that it is all clay, so let us not admire these either, for these too are only clay. Or rather, even before they are dissolved and turned to dust, show me that neck held high in the grip of fever and gasping out its life. Then I will talk with you, and I will ask: What has become of all that lavish finery? Where has that crowd of flatterers vanished, that train of slaves, that abundance of wealth and property? What wind has come and blown it all away?
Yet even stretched out on the bier, he carries the marks of that wealth and that pride: a splendid garment thrown over him, poor and rich following him out, the gathered crowds calling out words of good omen. Surely this too is nothing but a mockery. And even this is soon shown to be nothing, like a flower that dies. For when we have passed through the city gates, handed the body over to the worms, and come back, I will ask you again: Where has that huge crowd gone? What has become of the clamor and the uproar? Where are the torches? Where are the bands of women? Are these things not a dream? And what has become of the shouts? Where are all those mouths that cried out and told him, ‘Take heart, no one is immortal’? These things should not be said now to a man who cannot hear. They should have been said when he was preying on others, when he was grasping for more. Then, with a slight change, they should have been said to him: ‘Do not take heart; no one is immortal. Restrain your madness, put out your craving.’ But ‘Take heart’ is for the one who has been wronged. For to chant such things over this man now is just like people gloating over him and speaking in mockery. He ought not now to take heart at this, but to fear and tremble.
And if even this advice is of no use to him now, since he has finished his course, at least let those of the rich who suffer from the same disease, and who follow him to the tomb, hear it. Before, drunk with their wealth, they have nothing of the kind in mind; but at that moment, when the sight of the man laid out confirms what is being said, let them be sober, let them learn. Let them reflect that in a little while those will come who will carry them off to that fearful reckoning, to pay the penalty for their acts of plunder and extortion.
‘And what is this to the poor?’ Why, to many this too is a comfort: to see the one who wronged them punished. ‘But to us it is no comfort. What we want is to escape suffering ourselves.’ I praise you highly, and I approve of you for not gloating over the misfortunes of others, but seeking only your own safety. Come then, I will make sure of this for you as well. For if we suffer harm at the hands of people, we cancel no small part of our debt by bearing nobly what is done to us. So we suffer no loss. For God counts the ill-treatment against our debt, not by the rule of strict justice but by his love for humankind; and he does this because he did not come to the help of the one who suffered harm. ‘How is this shown?’ The Jews once suffered harm at the hands of the Babylonians, and God did not prevent it. They were carried away, children and women; yet afterward this captivity became a comfort to them in regard to their sins. That is why he says to Isaiah, “Comfort, comfort my people, you priests; speak to the heart of Jerusalem, for she has received from the Lord’s hand double for sins” (Isaiah 40, verses 1 and 2). And again, “Give us peace, for you have repaid us everything” (Isaiah 26, verse 12, in the Greek Old Testament). And David says, “See my enemies, for they have multiplied; and forgive all my sins” (Psalm 25, verses 19 and 18). And when he put up with Shimei cursing him, he said, “Let him alone, so that the Lord may see my humiliation, and repay me with good for this day” (Second Samuel 16, verses 11 and 12). For when he does not help us when we are wronged, that is when we gain the most; for he sets it against our sins, if we bear it with thanksgiving.
So when you see a rich man plundering a poor one, leave the one who is wronged and weep for the plunderer. For the one is putting off filth, while the other is smearing himself with more filth. This is what happened to Elisha’s servant in the story of Naaman (Second Kings 5, verse 20 and following). He did not take by violence, yet he did wrong; for to get money by deceit is wrong. And what happened to him? Along with his wrongful gain he received the leprosy as well. The one who was wronged was benefited, but the one who did the wrong received the greatest possible harm. The same thing happens now too, in the case of the soul. And this has such power that often, all by itself, it has won God’s favor. Even if the one who suffers harm does not deserve help, yet when he suffers beyond measure, by this alone he draws God to forgive him and to punish the one who did the wrong. That is why God said long ago about the pagans, “I handed them over for a little, but they set on together for evil things” (Zechariah 1, verse 15, in the Greek Old Testament): so they will suffer evils beyond remedy. For there is nothing, no, nothing, that so provokes God as plunder and violence and extortion. And why is that? Because it is very easy to keep from this sin. Here it is not some natural desire that disturbs the mind; it comes from deliberate carelessness. Then how does the apostle call it “a root of evils” (First Timothy 6, verse 10)? Why, I say so too; but this root comes from us, and not from the nature of things.
And, if you like, let us make a comparison and see which is the more tyrannical, the desire for money or the desire for beauty. For whichever is found to have struck down great men is the harder to master. Let us see, then, what great man the desire for money ever took hold of. Not one; only very pitiful and contemptible people: Gehazi, Ahab, Judas, the priests of the Jews. But the desire for beauty overcame even the great prophet David. I say this not to excuse those who are conquered by such a craving, but rather to get them ready to keep watch. For when I have shown the strength of the passion, then above all I show that they are stripped of every claim to pardon. If you had not known the wild beast, you would have that to take refuge in; but now that you have known it and still fall into it, you will have no excuse. After David, it took hold of his son even more completely. And yet there was never a man wiser than he, and he attained every other virtue; still, he was seized so violently by this passion that he took the wound in his very vitals. And the father got up again, renewed the fight, and was crowned again; but the son showed nothing of the kind.
That is also why Paul said, “It is better to marry than to burn” (First Corinthians 7, verse 9); and Christ said, “Let the one who is able to receive it receive it” (Matthew 19, verse 12). But about money he did not speak like that, but said, “Whoever has left” his goods “will receive a hundredfold” (Matthew 19, verse 29). ‘Then how did he say of the rich that they will hardly enter the kingdom?’ Here again he was pointing to their weakness of character: not the tyranny of money, but their utter slavery to it. This is clear also from the advice Paul gave. From that craving he leads people completely away, saying, “But those who want to be rich fall into temptation” (First Timothy 6, verse 9). But with the other it is not so. He separates them only “for a time,” and that by “consent,” and then advises them to “come together again” (First Corinthians 7, verse 5). For he feared the waves of desire, lest they cause a terrible shipwreck.
This passion is even more violent than anger. For one cannot feel anger when there is nothing to provoke it, but a man cannot help desiring even when the face that moves him to it is not in sight. That is why he did not cut off anger altogether, but added the words “without a cause” (Matthew 5, verse 22). Nor again did he abolish all desire, but only what is unlawful, for he says, “Nevertheless, because of desires, let each man have his own wife” (First Corinthians 7, verse 2). But he did not allow the storing up of treasure at all, whether with a cause or without. For those passions were planted in our nature for a necessary purpose: desire for the bearing of children, and anger for the help of the wronged. But the desire for money is not like that, and so this passion is not natural to us either. So if you are taken captive by it, you will suffer a punishment all the heavier, and the most shameful of all. Surely that is why Paul, who permits even a second marriage, demands great strictness where money is concerned, saying, “Why not rather suffer wrong? Why not rather be cheated?” (First Corinthians 6, verse 7). And when he deals with virginity he says, “I have no command” (First Corinthians 7, verse 25), and, “I say this for your own benefit, not to throw a snare over you” (First Corinthians 7, verse 35). But when he speaks of money he says, “Having clothing and food, let us be content with these” (First Timothy 6, verse 8). ‘Then how is it that more people are overcome by this than by the other?’ Because they do not stand on guard against it as they do against lewdness and sexual immorality. If they had thought it equally dangerous, perhaps they would not have been made its captives. That is also how those wretched virgins were shut out of the bridal chamber: they had struck down the great adversary, and then were wounded by a weaker one, one that was nothing at all (Matthew 25, verse 1 and following). Besides this, one may say further that when someone who masters desire is overcome by money, often he has not in fact mastered desire at all, but has received from nature the gift of not being much troubled in that way; for not everyone is equally inclined to it.
Knowing these things, then, and turning the example of the virgins over often in our minds, let us flee this evil wild beast. For if virginity did them no good, but after countless toils and labors they perished through the love of money, who will rescue us if we fall into this passion? So I beg you to do all you can, both not to be taken captive by it, and, if you are taken, not to remain in captivity, but to break those hard chains. For so we will be able to secure a footing in heaven and to obtain the countless good things. May we all attain them, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.