Homily 9 — Ephesians 4, verses 2 to 3

“I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a way worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” [a]

Great has the power of Paul’s chain been shown to be — more glorious than miracles. It is not for nothing, then, it seems, or without a purpose, that he holds it out before them here, but as the thing most likely of all to move them. And what does he say? “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a way worthy of the calling with which you were called.” And how is that done? “With all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.”

It is not simply being a prisoner that is honorable, but being one for Christ’s sake. That is why he says “in the Lord,” that is, the prisoner for Christ’s sake. Nothing is equal to this. But now the chain is dragging me away from my subject still more, and pulling me back again, and I cannot bear to resist it. I am drawn along willingly — or rather, with all my heart. If only it were always my lot to be speaking at length about Paul’s chain!

But do not grow drowsy now, for I still want to settle that other question which many people raise. They say: “If distress is something to glory in, how did Paul himself come to say in his defense before Agrippa, ‘I would to God that, whether with little or with much, not only you but also all who hear me today might become such as I am, except for these chains’?” (Acts 26, verse 29) Far from it! He did not say this because he thought the thing was something to pray against. No; if it had been, he would not have gloried in chains, in imprisonments, and in those other distresses. And when writing elsewhere he says, “Most gladly will I rather glory in my weaknesses” (Second Corinthians 12, verse 9). What, then, is the case? This itself was a proof of how great a thing he considered those chains. Just as when writing to the Corinthians he said, “I fed you with milk, not with solid food, for you were not yet able to bear it” (First Corinthians 3, verse 2), so it is here too. Those before whom he spoke were not able to hear of the beauty, the loveliness, and the blessing of those chains. [b]

That is why he added, “except for these chains.” To the Hebrews, however, he did not speak this way, but urged them to be “bound with” those who were in chains (Hebrews 13, verse 3). And that is also why he himself rejoiced in his chains, and was bound, and was led with the prisoners into the inner prison. [c]

Mighty is the power of Paul’s chain! Here is a sight that could stand in place of every other: to see Paul bound and led out of his prison. To see him bound and sitting inside it — what pleasure can come near this? What would I not give for such a sight? Do you see the emperors and the consuls, carried along in their chariots and dressed in gold, and their bodyguard with everything about them of gold — their spears of gold, their shields of gold, their clothing of gold, their horses with trappings of gold?

How much more delightful than such a sight is his! I would rather see Paul once, going out of his prison with the prisoners, than see these men ten thousand times over, parading along with all that escort. When he was led out like that, how many angels, do you suppose, went ahead of him? And to show that I am not making this up, I will make the fact plain to you from an ancient account.

Elisha the prophet — perhaps you know the man — at the time when the king of Syria was at war with the king of Israel (Second Kings 6, verses 8 to 12), sat in his own house and brought to light all the plans the king of Syria was making in his bedroom with those who were in on his schemes. He made the king’s plans come to nothing by telling his secrets in advance, and he did not let the king of Israel fall into the traps the other was laying for him. This troubled the king badly. He lost heart and was thrown into still greater confusion, because he did not know how to find the one who was revealing everything that went on, working against him and defeating his schemes. [d]

So while he was in this confusion and searching for the cause, one of his armor-bearers told him that there was a certain prophet, one Elisha, living in Samaria, who would not let the king’s plans stand but revealed everything that went on. The king thought he had found out the whole matter. Surely no one was ever more miserably deceived. He ought to have honored the man and revered him, and been awed that he really had such great power — that sitting where he was, so many miles away, he knew everything that went on in the king’s bedroom without anyone at all to tell him. This he did not do. Instead, enraged and carried away completely by his anger, he equipped horsemen and soldiers and sent them to bring the prophet before him.

Now Elisha had a disciple (Second Kings 6, verses 13 and following) who was still only on the threshold of prophecy, still far from being counted worthy of revelations of this kind. The king’s soldiers arrived at the place, meaning to bind the man — or rather, the prophet. (Here I am coming back to chains again, so completely is this sermon woven through with them!) When the disciple saw the army of soldiers, he was terrified. He ran to his master, trembling all over, told him of the disaster, as he thought it, and reported that the danger could not be escaped. [e]

The prophet smiled at him for fearing what was not worth fearing, and told him to take heart. But the disciple, not yet mature, did not listen to him; still stunned by the sight, he stayed afraid.

What did the prophet do then? “Lord,” he said, “open the eyes of this young man, and let him see that those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (Second Kings 6, verses 16 and 17). And at once the young man saw the whole mountain where the prophet was then living filled with a vast multitude of horses and chariots of fire. These were nothing other than ranks of angels. But if so great a band of angels stood by Elisha for an occasion like this, what must Paul have had?

This is what the prophet David tells us: “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him” (Psalm 34, verse 7). And again: “They will bear you up in their hands, so that you do not strike your foot against a stone” (Psalm 91, verse 12). And why do I speak of angels? The Lord himself was with him then as he went out. For surely it cannot be that he was seen by Abraham and yet was not with Paul. No — it was his own promise: “I am with you always, even to the end of the world” (Matthew 28, verse 20). And again, when he appeared to him, he said, “Do not be afraid, but speak, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you” (Acts 18, verses 9 and 10). Again, he stood by him in a dream and said, “Take heart, for as you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must bear witness also in Rome” (Acts 23, verse 11).

The saints are a glorious sight at all times, and full of abundant grace; yet they are most of all so when they are in danger for Christ’s sake, when they are prisoners. A brave soldier is a pleasing sight at all times, and in himself, to those who see him, but most of all when he is standing in the ranks at the king’s side. Picture Paul in the same way, then: what a thing it was to see him teaching in his chains! [f]

May I mention in passing a thought that has just this moment come to me? The blessed martyr Babylas was bound, and he too for the very same reason as John: because he rebuked a king for his sin. When he was dying, he gave orders that his chains should be laid with his body and that the body should be buried bound. To this day the fetters lie mingled with his ashes, so devoted was his love for the chains he had worn for Christ’s sake. “He was laid in chains of iron,” as the prophet says of Joseph (Psalm 105, verse 18). And even women, before now, have known the trial of these chains.

We, however, are not in chains, and I am not urging this on you, since now is not the time for them. But you — do not bind your hands; bind your heart and mind. There are other bonds besides, and those who do not wear the one kind will have to wear the other. Listen to what Christ says: “Bind him hand and foot” (Matthew 22, verse 13). But may we never know those bonds! As for these, may he grant us to take our fill of them! [h]

That is why he says, “I, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a way worthy of the calling with which you were called.” But what is this calling? You were called to be his body, as it is said. You have Christ as your head. And though you were “enemies,” and had committed wrongs beyond counting, yet “he has raised you up with him and made you sit with him” (Ephesians 2, verse 6). This is a high calling, and to high honors — not only because we have been called out of that former state, but because we are called both to such honors and in such a way.

But how can one “walk worthily” of it? “With all humility.” Such a person walks worthily. This is the foundation of all virtue. If you are humble, and think over what you are and how you were saved, you will take that memory as a spur to every virtue. You will not be puffed up by chains, or by those very honors I mentioned; knowing that everything is of grace, you will humble yourself. The humble-minded man can be at once a generous servant and a grateful one. “For what do you have,” he says, “that you did not receive?” (First Corinthians 4, verse 7). And again, hear his words: “I labored more abundantly than they all; yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me” (First Corinthians 15, verse 10).

“With all humility,” he says: not the humility that is in words, nor only the humility that is in actions, but even in one’s very bearing and tone of voice. Do not be humble toward one person and rude toward another. Be humble toward everyone, whether friend or enemy, great or small. This is humility. Even in your good deeds be humble. For hear what Christ says: “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5, verse 3).

And he places this first in order. That is why the apostle himself says, “With all humility and gentleness and patience.” For it is possible for a man to be humble and yet quick-tempered and irritable, and then it is all for nothing; for often he will be seized by his anger and ruin everything. [i]

“Bearing with one another in love,” he goes on. How is it possible to bear with others if a man is hot-tempered or fault-finding? So he has told us the way: “in love,” he says. As if to say: if you do not bear with your neighbor, how will God bear with you? If you do not put up with your fellow servant, how will the Master put up with you? Wherever there is love, everything can be borne.

“Making every effort,” he says, “to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” So bind your hands with moderation. There again is that fine word “bond”! We had let it go, and it has come back to us of its own accord.

That was a fine bond, and this one is fine too, and the other is the fruit of this one. Bind yourself to your brother. Those who are bound together in love bear everything lightly. Bind yourself to him, and him to you. Both are in your power; for whoever I may want to make my friend, I can win over by kindness.

“Making every effort,” he says: it is not a thing done easily, and not within everyone’s power. [j]

“Making every effort,” he continues, “to keep the unity of the Spirit.” What is this “unity of the Spirit”? In the human body there is a spirit that holds everything together, though it is in different members. So it is here too. For this is why the Spirit was given: to unite those who are separated by race and by different ways of life. Old and young, rich and poor, child and youth, woman and man, and every soul become in a way one — more completely one than if they were one body. For this spiritual relationship is far higher than the natural one, and the union more fully complete, because the joining of souls is more perfect, since the soul is simple and of one form. And how, then, is this unity kept? “In the bond of peace.” It cannot exist amid hostility and quarreling.

“For since there is jealousy and strife among you,” he says, “are you not fleshly, and walking as mere men do?” (First Corinthians 3, verse 3). When fire finds dry pieces of wood, it works them all up together into one blazing pile; but when the wood is wet, it does nothing at all and does not unite them. So it is here. Nothing cold by nature can bring about this union, while anything warm usually can. That, at least, is how the warmth of love is produced. By “the bond of peace” he wants to bind us all together.

It is as if he said: if you want to attach yourself to another, you cannot do it any other way than by attaching him to yourself; and if you want to make the tie double, he in his turn must attach himself to you. In the same way he wants us tied to one another — not simply to be at peace, not simply to love one another, but for all of us to be one single soul. A glorious bond this is! With this bond let us bind ourselves to one another and to God. This is a bond that does not bruise or cramp the hands it binds, but leaves them free, gives them ample room, and gives them more courage than hands that are unbound. The strong man, if he is bound to the weak, will hold him up and not let him perish; and if again he is tied to the lazy, he will rather rouse him and put spirit into him. “A brother helped by a brother,” it says, “is like a strong city.”

No distance of place can break this chain — not heaven, nor earth, nor death, nor anything else. It is mightier and stronger than all things. Though it comes from only one soul, it can take in many at once. Listen to what Paul says: “You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own hearts. You too, be opened wide” (Second Corinthians 6, verse 12).

What, then, weakens this bond? Love of money, and the passion for power and for glory, and things like these, loosen these bonds and cut them apart. How, then, are we to keep them from being cut? By getting rid of these dispositions, and by letting none of the things that destroy love come in along the way to trouble us. For hear what Christ says: “Because wrongdoing will be multiplied, the love of many will grow cold” (Matthew 24, verse 12). Nothing is so opposed to love as sin — and I mean not only love toward God, but love toward our neighbor too. But someone may say: “How is it, then, that even robbers are at peace?” When are they, tell me? Not when they are acting in the spirit of robbers. For if they fail to keep the rules of justice among those with whom they divide the plunder, and to give each one his due, you will find them too at war and quarreling. So not even among the wicked is it possible to find peace; but where people live in righteousness and virtue, you can find it everywhere. But again, are rivals ever at peace? [m]

Never. And whom else would you have me mention? The greedy man can never be at peace with the greedy. If there were not just and good people standing between them — even though these are wronged by them — the whole race of them would be torn to pieces. When two wild beasts are starving, if something is not put between them to devour, they will devour one another. It would be the same with the greedy and the wicked. So it is not possible for there to be peace where virtue has not already been put into practice beforehand. Let us build, if you like, a city made up entirely of greedy men. Give them equal rights, and let no one put up with being wronged, but let everyone wrong everyone else. Can that city possibly hold together? It is impossible. Again, is there peace among adulterers?

No. You will not find any two of them of one mind.

So then, to come back to the point: there is no other reason for this than that “love has grown cold”; and the reason love has grown cold is that “wrongdoing abounds.” For wrongdoing leads to selfishness; it divides and cuts the body apart, loosens it, and tears it to pieces. But where virtue is, it does the opposite. For the virtuous man is also above money, so that even if there were ten thousand such men in poverty, they would still live in peace; while the greedy can never be at peace where there are only two of them. So if we are virtuous, love will not perish; for virtue springs from love, and love from virtue. And how this is, I will tell you. The virtuous man does not value money above friendship. He does not remember wrongs done to him, nor does he wrong his neighbor. He does not insult others; he bears all things nobly.

Love is made up of these things. And again, the one who loves submits to all these things; and so they produce one another in turn. That love springs from virtue is plain from this: when our Lord says, “Because wrongdoing will be multiplied, the love of many will grow cold,” he is plainly telling us this very thing. And that virtue springs from love, Paul tells us when he says, “He who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law” (Romans 13, verse 10). So a man must be one of the two — either very loving and much loved, or else very virtuous — for whoever has the one of necessity has the other as well. On the other hand, the one who does not know how to love will for that very reason do many evil things; and the one who does evil things does not know what it is to love. [n]

So let us pursue love. It is a safeguard that will not let us suffer any harm. Let us bind ourselves together. Let there be no deceit among us, no hollowness; for where there is friendship, nothing of the kind is found. Another wise man also tells us this:

“Though you drew a sword against your friend, do not despair, for there may be a way back to favor. If you have opened your mouth against your friend, do not fear, for there may be reconciliation — except for reproaching, or betraying secrets, or a treacherous wound; for these things a friend will leave” (Sirach 22, verses 21 and 22). [p]

For “betraying,” he says, “secrets.” Now if we are all friends, there is no need for secrets. Just as no one keeps a secret from himself, or can hide anything from himself, so neither will he hide anything from his friends. Where there are no secrets, then, a break arising from this cause is impossible. We have secrets for no other reason than that we do not trust everyone. So it is love growing cold that has produced secrets. For what secret do you have? Do you want to wrong your neighbor? Or are you keeping him from sharing in some benefit, and hiding it for that reason? But no — perhaps it is none of these things. What, then? Are you ashamed? If so, that is a sign of a lack of trust.

Now if there is love, there will be no “betraying of secrets,” and no “reproaching” either. For who, tell me, would ever reproach his own soul? And even if such a thing were done, it would be for some good. We reproach children, as we know, when we want to make them feel it. So Christ too, on that occasion, began to reproach the cities, saying, “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida!” (Luke 10, verse 13) — so that he might free them from reproaches. For nothing has such power to take hold of the mind, or can rouse it more strongly, or brace it up when it has gone slack. So let us never reproach one another merely for the sake of reproaching. For what would you reproach him with?

Will you reproach your friend over money? Surely not, if at least you hold what you have in common. Will you reproach him, then, for his faults?

No, not for this either; in that case you will rather correct him. Or, as it goes on, “for a treacherous wound” — who in the world will kill himself, or who will wound himself? No one.

So let us “pursue love.” He does not say simply “let us love,” but “let us pursue love” (First Corinthians 14, verse 1). There is need of great eagerness. She is soon out of sight; she is very swift in her flight, so many things are there in life that do her harm. If we pursue her, she will not outrun us and get away; we will quickly catch her again.

It was the love of God that joined earth to heaven. It was the love of God that seated man on the royal throne. It was the love of God that showed God upon earth. It was the love of God that made the Lord a servant. It was the love of God that caused the Beloved to be handed over for his enemies, the Son for those who hated him, the Lord for his servants, God for men, the free for slaves. Nor did it stop there, but called us to still greater things. Yes, not only did it set us free from our former evils, but it also promised to give us other, much greater blessings.

For these things, then, let us give thanks to God and pursue every virtue; and above all, let us practice love with all strictness, so that we may be counted worthy to attain the promised blessings, 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 forever and ever. Amen.