Homily 26 — Second Corinthians 12, verses 1 to 10

“No doubt it is not to my advantage to boast; for I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord.” [a]

What is this? After saying such great things, does he now say, “No doubt it is not to my advantage to boast,” as if he had said nothing? No, not as if he had said nothing. But he is about to pass on to another kind of boasting, one that does not indeed carry so great a reward, yet seems to most people (though not to those who examine carefully) to set him off in brighter colors. That is why he says, “No doubt it is not to my advantage to boast.” For the truly great grounds for boasting were the ones he had already listed, the grounds of his trials. But he has other things to tell as well, such as the revelations and the mysteries beyond words.

And why, he says, is it “not to my advantage”? He means: “So that it does not lift me up into pride.” What are you saying? Even if you do not speak of them, do you not know of them all the same? But our knowing of them ourselves does not lift us up so much as our publishing them to others. For it is not the nature of good deeds that usually lifts a man up, but their being witnessed and known by the many. That is why he says, “It is not to my advantage,” and: “So that I may not plant too high an idea of me in those who hear.”

For those men, the false apostles, said even what was not true about themselves; but this man hides even what is true, and that although so great a necessity lay on him, and says, “It is not to my advantage,” teaching every one of us to go out of our way to avoid anything of the sort. For this thing brings no advantage, and even does harm, unless there is some necessary and useful reason that drives us to it. So, having spoken of his dangers, trials, snares, discouragements and shipwrecks, he passes to another kind of boasting, saying:

Verses 2 and 3: “I knew a man fourteen years ago (whether in the body I do not know, or out of the body I do not know; God knows), such a one caught up even to the third heaven. And I know how this man was caught up into Paradise (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know), and heard words beyond telling, which a man is not permitted to utter. On behalf of such a one I will boast; but on my own behalf I will not boast.”

This revelation was indeed a great one. But it was not the only one; there were many others as well, and he mentions one out of many. That there were many, listen to what he says: “So that I would not be exalted too much through the surpassing greatness of the revelations.” [d]

“And yet,” someone may say, “if he wanted to conceal them, he ought not to have given any hint at all or said anything of the kind; and if he wanted to speak of them, he should have spoken plainly. Why then did he neither speak plainly nor keep silent?” To show by this too that he turns to the subject against his will. That is also why he has stated the time, “fourteen years.” He does not mention it for nothing, but to show that a man who had held back for so long would not have spoken out now unless the need to do so had been great. He would have kept silent still, had he not seen the brothers and sisters perishing.

Now if Paul, from the very beginning, was such a man as to be counted worthy of such a revelation, when he had not yet done such good works, think what he must have grown into in fourteen years. And notice how even in this very matter he shows modesty, by saying some things and admitting that he does not know others. That he was caught up, he declared; but whether “in the body” or “out of the body,” he says he does not know. And yet it would have been quite enough to tell of his being caught up and say nothing about the rest; but as it is, in his modesty he adds this too.

What then? Was it the mind and the soul that were caught up, while the body lay dead? Or was the body caught up? It is impossible to tell. For if Paul, who was caught up, and to whom so many and such great things beyond telling had happened, did not know, much less do we. He knew that he was in Paradise, and he was not unaware that he was in the third heaven, but the manner of it he did not clearly know.

And see from yet another point how free he is from pride. In his account of “the city of the Damascenes” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 32) he confirms what he says, but here he does not; for his aim was not to establish this fact firmly, but only to mention it and hint at it. That is why he goes on to say, “Of such a one I will boast”: not meaning that the man who was caught up was someone else, but framing his words as well as he possibly could, so as both to mention the fact and to avoid speaking of himself openly. For what sense would there be in bringing someone else forward, when he is talking about himself? Why then did he put it this way? Because it was not the same thing to say, “I was caught up,” and, “I knew one who was caught up”; or, “I will boast of myself,” and, “I will boast of such a one.”

Now if anyone should say, “And how is it possible to be caught up without a body?” I will ask him, “How is it possible to be caught up with a body?” For this is even harder to explain than the other, if you examine it by reasonings and do not make room for faith.

But why was he caught up at all? As I think, so that he might not seem to be inferior to the rest of the apostles. For since they had kept company with Christ and Paul had not, he caught him up into glory as well.

“Into Paradise.” For the name of this place was a great one, and it was celebrated everywhere. That is why Christ too said, “Today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23, verse 43).

“On behalf of such a one I will boast.” Why? If someone else was caught up, why do you boast? From this it is evident that he said these things of himself. And when he added, “but of myself I will not boast,” he means nothing else than this: “When there is no need, I will say nothing of that kind to no purpose and at random.” Or else he is once more throwing a veil over what he had said, as best he could. For that the whole account was about himself, what follows also shows clearly; for he went on to say:

Verse 6: “But if I should even wish to boast, I will not be a fool, for I will be speaking the truth.”

How then did you say before, “I wish you would bear with me a little in my foolishness” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 1), and, “What I am saying, I am not saying according to the Lord, but as if in foolishness” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 17), but here, “Though I should wish to boast, I will not be a fool”? He means, not in regard to boasting, but in regard to lying. For if boasting is foolishness, how much more is lying! [f]

It is with regard to this, then, that he says, “I will not be a fool.” That is why he also added, “For I will be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so that no one may think more of me than what he sees me to be, or hears from me.” Here you have the reason he openly admits: people even took them for gods because of the greatness of their miracles.

Just as in the case of the elements God did both things, creating them at once weak and glorious (the one to proclaim his own power, the other to prevent the error of humankind), so here too the apostles were both wonderful and weak, so that unbelievers were taught by the facts themselves. For if they had remained only wonderful and given no proof of weakness, and had tried by words to draw the many away from thinking more of them than the truth, not only would they have achieved nothing, they would even have brought about the opposite. Such refusals in words would have seemed rather to spring from humility, and would have made people admire them all the more. That is why their weakness was laid bare in action and by deeds.

You can see this illustrated in the men who lived under the old covenant too. Elijah was wonderful, but on one occasion he was shown up as faint-hearted; and Moses was great, but he too fled, in the grip of the same feeling. Such things happened to them because God stood back and let their human nature be plainly seen. For if, because he had led them out, they said, “Where is Moses?” what would they not have said if he had also led them in?

That is why Paul himself says, “I refrain, so that no one may think of me.” He did not say, “say of me,” but, “so that no one may even think of me” beyond what I deserve. From this too it is evident that the whole account is about himself. That is why, even when he began, he said, “No doubt it is not to my advantage to boast,” which he would not have said if he had been going to tell things about another man. For why would it be “not to his advantage to boast” about someone else? But it was he himself who was counted worthy of these things; and that is why he goes on to say:

Verse 7: “And so that I would not be exalted too much through the surpassing greatness of the revelations, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to beat me.”

What are you saying? He who counted the kingdom as nothing, no, nor hell either, compared with his longing for Christ: did he think the honor that comes from the many worth anything, so as to be lifted up by it and to need that curb continually? For he did not say, “that he might beat me,” but, “that he may beat me.” Yet who would say this? What then is the meaning of the words? When we have explained what is meant at all by the “thorn,” and who this “messenger of Satan” is, then we will explain this too. [i]

There are some who have said that he means a kind of headache inflicted by the devil. Far from it! The body of Paul could never have been handed over into the devil’s hands, seeing that the devil himself submitted to this same Paul at his mere command. Paul set him laws and limits when he handed over the sexually immoral man for the destruction of the flesh, and the devil did not dare to overstep them.

What then is the meaning of the words? In Hebrew an adversary is called Satan. In the Third Book of Kings the Scripture has called adversaries by this name; speaking of Solomon, it says, “In his days there was no Satan,” that is, no adversary, enemy or opponent (First Kings 5, verse 4). What he says, then, is this: God would not let the preaching go forward, so as to check our high thoughts, but allowed our adversaries to set upon us. For this was indeed enough to pull down his high thoughts; headaches were not.

So by the “messenger of Satan” he means Alexander the coppersmith, the party of Hymenaeus and Philetus, all the adversaries of the word: those who contended with him and fought against him, those who threw him into prison, those who beat him, those who led him away to death. For they were doing Satan’s business. Just as he calls those Jews children of the devil who were imitating the devil’s deeds, so he calls everyone who opposes him a “messenger of Satan.” So he says, “There was given me a thorn to beat me”: not as if God puts weapons into the hands of such men (far from it!), nor that God chastens or punishes, but that for a time he allows and permits them.

Verse 8: “Three times I begged the Lord about this.”

That is, many times. This too is a mark of great humility: he does not hide that he could not bear those treacherous plots, that he grew faint under them and was driven to pray for deliverance.

Verse 9: “And he said to me, ‘My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”

That is to say: “It is enough for you that you raise the dead, that you heal the blind, that you cleanse lepers, that you work those other miracles. Do not ask also to be spared danger and fear, and to preach without troubles. Are you pained and downcast, for fear it should seem to come from my weakness that there are many who plot against you and beat you, harass you and flog you? Why, this very thing shows my power. ‘For my power,’ he says, ‘is made perfect in weakness’: when you are persecuted and overcome your persecutors; when you are harassed and get the better of those who harass you; when you are put in chains and convert those who put you in chains. So do not ask for more than is needed.”

Do you see how he himself gives one reason, and God another? He himself says, “So that I would not be exalted too much, there was given me a thorn”; but he says that God said he permitted it in order to show his power. “So what you are asking for is a thing not only unnecessary, but one that would even obscure the glory of my power.” For by the words “is enough for you” he meant this: that nothing more needed to be added, but the whole was complete. So from this too it is plain that he does not mean headaches. For in truth they did not preach when they were sick, since they could not preach when ill; he means that, harassed and persecuted, they overcame everything.

“Having heard this, then,” he says, “most gladly therefore will I boast in my weaknesses.” For so that his hearers may not lose heart, when those false apostles are boasting of a lot the very opposite of theirs while they themselves suffer persecution, he shows that he shines all the brighter for this, that in this way the power of God shines out all the more, and that what happens is a proper ground for boasting. That is why he says, “Most gladly therefore will I boast”: “It was not as one grieving that I spoke of the things I listed, or of what I have just now said, ‘there was given me a thorn,’ but as one who takes pride in them and draws greater power to himself from them.” That is why he also adds, “so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” Here he hints at something else as well: that in proportion as the trials grew more intense, in the same proportion grace was increased and lasted.

Verse 10: “Therefore I take pleasure in many weaknesses.” Of what sort? Tell me. “In insults, in persecutions, in hardships, in distresses.” Do you see how he has now made it clear in the plainest way? For in naming the kinds of weakness he spoke not of fevers, nor of any recurring attack of that sort, nor of any other bodily illness, but of “insults, persecutions, distresses.” Do you see a single-minded soul? He longs to be freed from those dangers; but when he heard God’s answer that this was not fitting, not only was he not sorry that his prayer was refused, he was even glad. That is why he said, “I take pleasure”: “I rejoice, I long to be insulted, persecuted and distressed for Christ’s sake.” He said these things both to check those men and to lift the spirits of these, so that they might not be ashamed of Paul’s sufferings. For that ground was enough to make them shine brighter than all men. Then he gives another reason too. [n]

“For when I am weak, then I am strong.” “Why are you amazed that the power of God is plainly seen at such a time? I too am strong ‘then.’” For it was then above all that grace came upon him. “For as his sufferings abound, so our comfort also abounds” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 5). Where there is affliction, there is comfort too; where there is comfort, there is grace as well. For instance, when he was thrown into prison, that was when he worked those marvelous things; when he was shipwrecked and cast up on that barbarian land, then more than ever was he glorified; when he went in chains into the court, then he overcame even the judge.

So it was in the Old Testament too: the righteous flourished through their trials. So it was with the three young men, with Daniel, with Moses and Joseph; that is where they all shone and were counted worthy of great crowns. For the soul too is purified when it is afflicted for God’s sake. It then enjoys greater assistance, since it needs more help and is worthy of more grace. And indeed, even before the reward God holds out to it, it reaps a rich harvest of good things by learning philosophy.

For affliction tears pride away, prunes out all listlessness, and trains the soul in endurance. It shows how paltry human things are, and leads to much philosophy. All the passions give way before it: envy, rivalry, craving, the desire for power, for riches, for beauty, boasting, pride, anger, and the whole remaining swarm of these diseases. And if you want to see this at work, I will be able to show you both a single individual and a whole people, both under affliction and at ease, and so teach you how great an advantage comes from the one, and how great a listlessness from the other.

The people of the Hebrews, when they were oppressed and persecuted, groaned and begged God, and drew great help down on themselves from above; but when they grew fat, they kicked. The Ninevites, again, when they were enjoying their ease, so provoked God that he threatened to tear the whole city up from its foundations; but after they had been humbled by that preaching, they displayed every virtue. [r]

And if you want to see a single individual too, consider Solomon. When he was deliberating with anxiety and trouble over the government of that nation, he was granted that vision; but when he was living in luxury, he slid into the very pit of wrongdoing. And what of his father? When was he admirable and beyond belief? Was it not when he was in trials? And Absalom: was he not self-controlled while he was still an exile, but after his return became a usurper and a father-killer? And what of Job? He shone even in prosperity, but he appeared brighter still after his affliction.

And why speak of old and ancient things? If anyone will only examine our own state at present, he will see how great the advantage of affliction is. Now that we are enjoying peace, we have become careless and slack, and have filled the church with countless evils; but when we were persecuted, we were more self-controlled, kinder, more earnest, and more eager for these gatherings and for listening.

What fire is to gold, affliction is to souls: it wipes away filth, makes people clean, makes them bright and shining. Affliction leads to the kingdom; the other leads to hell. That is why the one way is broad and the other narrow. That is also why he himself said, “In the world you will have distress” (John 16, verse 33), as though he were leaving us some great good. If then you are a disciple, travel the narrow and hard way, and do not be disgusted or discouraged.

For even if you are not afflicted in that way, you will inevitably be afflicted on other grounds, ones that do you no good. The envious man, the lover of money, the man burning for a prostitute, the man hungry for empty glory, and every one of the rest who follow any evil: each endures many discouragements and afflictions, and is afflicted no less than those who mourn. And if he does not weep or mourn, that is from shame and numbness; for if you were to look into his soul, you would see it full of countless waves. Since, then, whichever way of life we follow, we must be afflicted, why do we not choose this way, which along with affliction brings crowns beyond number?

For this is how God led all the saints, through affliction and distress, at once doing them a service and guarding the rest of humankind against thinking more highly of them than they deserve. For that is how idol worship gained ground at first: men were admired beyond what they deserved. So the Roman senate decreed Alexander to be the thirteenth god, for it had the privilege of electing and enrolling gods. For instance, when everything about Christ had been reported, the ruler of the nation sent to ask whether they would be pleased to elect him a god too. But they refused their consent, angry and indignant that before their vote and decree, the power of the Crucified, flashing abroad, had won the whole world over to its own worship. And so, even against their will, it was arranged that Christ’s being God was not proclaimed by human decree, nor was he counted as one of the many they had elected. For they counted even boxers as gods, and Hadrian’s favorite, after whom the city of Antinous is named.

For since death testifies against their mortal nature, the devil invented another way, the way of the soul’s immortality; and by mixing that excessive flattery with it, he led many astray into impiety. And see what a wicked trick this is. When we put forward that teaching for a good purpose, he overthrows our words; but when he himself wants to frame an argument for mischief, he is very eager to set it up. If anyone asks, “How is Alexander a god? Is he not dead, and miserably too?” “Yes, but the soul is immortal,” he replies. So you argue like a philosopher for immortality, to pull people away from the God who is over all; but when we declare that this is God’s greatest gift, you persuade those you have fooled that human beings are low and groveling, and no better off than animals without reason. And if we say, “The Crucified lives,” laughter follows at once, though the whole world proclaims it, both in times past and now: in times past by miracles, now by converts; for these successes are surely not those of a dead man. But if someone says, “Alexander lives,” you believe it, though you have no miracle to point to. “Yes,” someone replies; “I have. For while he lived he did many great deeds: he subdued both nations and cities, he conquered in many wars and battles, and he set up trophies.”

If, then, I show something that he never dreamed of while he was alive, neither he nor any other man who ever lived, what other proof of the resurrection will you ask for? For a man to win battles and victories while alive, being a king with armies at his disposal, is nothing marvelous, no, nor startling or new; but that after a cross and a tomb someone should do such great things throughout every land and sea, this above all is full of amazement and proclaims his divine power beyond words. Alexander, after his death, never restored his kingdom, which had been torn in pieces and utterly abolished; and indeed how could he, being dead? But Christ set his up most of all after he was dead. [v]

And why do I speak of Christ, when he granted even to his disciples to shine after their deaths? For tell me, where is the tomb of Alexander? Show it to me, and tell me the day on which he died. But of the servants of Christ even the tombs are glorious, seeing they have taken possession of the most royal city; and their days are well known, and are festivals for the world. Alexander’s tomb even his own people do not know; but this man’s the very barbarians know.

And the tombs of the servants of the Crucified are more splendid than the palaces of kings: not for the size and beauty of the buildings (though even in this they surpass them), but, what is far more, for the zeal of those who come to them. He who wears the purple goes himself to embrace those tombs, and, laying aside his pride, stands begging the saints to be his advocates with God; and he who wears the diadem implores the tentmaker and the fisherman, though they are dead, to be his patrons.

Tell me, then, will you dare to call the Lord of these men dead, when his servants, even after their death, are the patrons of the kings of the world? And this can be seen happening not in Rome only, but in Constantinople too. For there also the son of Constantine the Great thought he would be paying his father great honor if he buried him in the porch of the fisherman; and what doorkeepers are to kings in their palaces, kings are to fishermen at their tomb. The fishermen, as lords of the place, occupy the inside, while the kings, as though mere visitors and neighbors, were glad to be given the gate of the porch, showing by what is done in this world, even to unbelievers, that in the resurrection the fishermen will be still more their superiors. For if it is so here in their burial, much more will it be so in the resurrection.

And their ranks are exchanged: kings take the place of servants and attendants, and subjects the dignity of kings, or rather a brighter one still. That this is no flattery, the truth itself proves; for the kings have become more illustrious through these men. Far greater reverence is paid to these tombs than to the other, royal tombs; for there is deep solitude, while here there is an immense crowd. And if you compare these tombs with the royal palaces, here again the prize goes to them. For there, many keep people away; but here many invite and draw to them rich and poor, men and women, slave and free. There is much fear; here, delight beyond words.

“But,” someone says, “it is a sweet sight to look at a king covered with gold and crowned, and standing beside him generals, commanders, officers of cavalry and infantry, and deputies.” Well, but this sight of ours is so much grander and more awe-inspiring that the other, compared with it, must be judged stage scenery and child’s play. The moment you have stepped across the threshold, the place at once sends your thoughts up to heaven, to the King above, to the army of the angels, to the lofty throne, to the glory no one can approach.

In this world, indeed, he has put it in the ruler’s power to set free one of his subjects and to bind another; but the bones of the saints have no such pitiful and paltry authority, but one far greater. For they summon demons and put them to torture, and set free from those bitterest of all bonds those who are bound. What is more fearful than this court? Though no one is seen, though no one works over the demon’s sides, still there are cries and tearings, lashes, tortures, burning tongues, because the demon cannot endure that marvelous power. And those who once wore bodies are victorious over bodiless powers; their dust and bones and ashes rack those invisible beings.

That is truly why no one would ever travel abroad to see the palaces of kings, but many kings have often traveled to see this sight. For the shrines of the saints show outlines and signs of the judgment to come: demons are flogged there, and people are disciplined and set free. Do you see the power of the saints, even when they are dead? Do you see the weakness of sinners, even when they are alive?

Flee wickedness, then, so that you may have power over such beings, and pursue virtue with all your might. For if things are so here, think what they will be in the world to come. And, always possessed by this love, lay hold of eternal life, which may we all attain, through 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.