Homily 19 — Ephesians 5, verses 15 to 21

“Look carefully, then, how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” [a]

He is still clearing away the root of bitterness, still cutting out the very foundation of anger. For what is he saying? “Look carefully how you walk.” “They are sheep in the midst of wolves,” and he charges them to be “as doves” as well: “You shall be harmless,” he says, “as doves” (Matthew 10, verse 16).

Since, then, they were among wolves, and on top of that had been commanded not to defend themselves but to endure wrong, they needed this warning. Not that the first by itself was not enough to make them stronger; but now that the two have been added together, think how greatly it is heightened. So notice how carefully he makes them safe here too, by saying, “Look how you walk.” Whole cities were at war with them; yes, this war made its way into their homes as well. They were divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother.

What, then? Where did these divisions come from? They had heard Christ say, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10, verse 37). So that they would not think he was bringing in wars and fighting for no reason — for a great deal of anger was likely to arise if they, for their part, struck back — to prevent this he says, “See carefully how you walk.”

That is to say: “Apart from the message of the good news, give no other handle of any kind whatever for the hatred you will meet.” Let this be the only ground for their hatred. Let no one have any other charge to bring against you. Show every deference and obedience, wherever it does no harm to the message, wherever it does not stand in the way of godliness. For it says, “Pay to all what is due them: tribute to whom tribute is due, customs to whom customs” (Romans 13, verse 7). For when the rest of the world sees us bearing wrongs patiently, they will be put to shame. [d]

“Not as unwise, but as wise, redeeming the time.”

He does not give this advice because he wants you to be crafty and slippery. What he means is this. The time is not yours. For now you are strangers and temporary residents, foreigners and aliens. Do not seek honors, do not seek glory, do not seek power or revenge. Bear everything, and in this way “redeem the time.” Give up many things — anything they may demand.

Imagine, I say, a man who had a magnificent house, and people forced their way in on purpose to murder him, and he paid a large sum and so rescued himself. We would say he had redeemed himself. So you too have a great house, and a true faith in your keeping. They will come to take everything away. Give whatever they demand; only keep the main thing safe — I mean the faith.

“Because the days,” he says, “are evil.”

What is the evil of a day? The evil of the day ought to belong to the day. What is the evil of a body? Disease. And what, again, is the evil of the soul? Wickedness. What is the evil of water? Bitterness. The evil of each particular thing is judged by that part of its nature which the evil affects. So if there is an evil in the day, it ought to belong to the day, to its hours, to the daylight. That is why Christ says, “The day’s own evil is enough for the day” (Matthew 6, verse 34). And from this saying we will understand the other.

In what sense, then, does he call “the days evil”? In what sense is “the time” evil? It is not the being of the thing, not the days as they were created, but the things done in them — just as we are in the habit of saying, “I have had an unpleasant, miserable day.” And yet how could it be unpleasant, except from the things that happened in it? Now, of the things that happen in a day, the good come from God, but the evil from wicked people. So it is people who create the evils that happen in the times, and that is why the times are said to be evil. That is how we too call the times evil.

Verses 17 and 18: “Therefore,” he adds, “do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, in which is wild living.” [e]

For lack of self-control in this makes people hot-tempered and violent, hotheaded, irritable and savage. Wine was given to us for cheerfulness, not for drunkenness. Yet now it seems an unmanly and contemptible thing for a man not to get drunk. What hope of salvation is there, then? What? Contemptible, tell me, not to get drunk — when getting drunk ought to be the most contemptible thing in the world?

It is entirely right for even a private citizen to keep far away from drunkenness; but how much more for a soldier, a man who lives among swords and bloodshed and slaughter! Much more, I say, for the soldier, since his temper is sharpened by other things too: by power, by authority, by being constantly in the thick of stratagems and battles.

Do you want to know where wine is good? Hear what the Scripture says: “Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to the bitter in soul” (Proverbs 31, verse 6). And rightly, because it can soften harshness and gloom and clear the clouds from the brow.

“Wine gladdens the heart of man” (Psalm 104, verse 15), says the psalmist. How, then, does wine produce drunkenness? For one and the same thing cannot work opposite effects. So drunkenness surely does not come from wine, but from lack of self-control. Wine is given to us for no other purpose than the body’s health; but even this purpose is defeated by using it without measure. Listen, besides, to what our blessed apostle writes to Timothy: “Use a little wine for your stomach’s sake and your frequent illnesses.” [f]

This is why God has formed our bodies in moderate proportions, able to be satisfied with little — teaching us from this at once that he has made us fit for another life. He would gladly have given us that life from the very beginning; but since we made ourselves unworthy of it, he put it off. And during the time he has put it off, not even then does he allow us to indulge without measure. For a little cup of wine and a single loaf is enough to satisfy a man’s hunger. And man, the lord of all the animals without reason, he has formed so as to need less food in proportion than they do, and has made his body small — declaring to us by this nothing other than that we are hurrying on toward another life. “Do not get drunk,” he says, “with wine, in which is wild living.” For it does not save; it destroys — and not the body only, but the soul too.

Verses 18 to 21: “But be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with your heart to the Lord; giving thanks always for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God, even the Father; submitting yourselves to one another in the fear of Christ.”

Do you want to be cheerful, he is saying? Do you want to make good use of the day? I give you a spiritual drink. For drunkenness even cuts off clear speech from our tongue; it makes us lisp and stammer, and it twists the eyes and the whole frame together. Learn to sing psalms, and you will see how delightful the occupation is. For those who sing psalms are filled with the Holy Spirit, just as those who sing satanic songs are filled with an unclean spirit.

What does “with your heart to the Lord” mean? It means with close attention and understanding. For those who do not pay close attention merely sing, uttering the words while their heart wanders elsewhere.

“Always,” he says, “giving thanks for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God, even the Father, submitting yourselves to one another in the fear of Christ.”

That is, “let your requests be made known to God with thanksgiving” (Philippians 4, verse 6). For there is nothing so pleasing to God as a thankful person. But we will best be able to give thanks to God by drawing our souls away from the things mentioned before, and by cleansing them thoroughly by the means he has told us. [g]

“But be filled,” he says, “with the Spirit.” Is this Spirit, then, within us? Yes, certainly, within us. For when we have driven lying and bitterness and sexual immorality and impurity and greed out of our souls; when we have become kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another; when there is no jesting; when we have made ourselves worthy of it — what is there to keep the Holy Spirit from coming and settling on us? And he will not only come to us; he will fill our hearts. And when so great a light has been kindled within us, the way of virtue will no longer be hard to reach, but easy and simple.

“Giving thanks always,” he says, “for all things.”

What, then? Are we to give thanks for everything that happens to us? Yes — even if it is disease, even if it is poverty. For if a certain wise man gave this advice in the Old Testament and said, “Whatever is brought upon you, accept it cheerfully, and be patient when your lot is changed and you are brought low” (Sirach 2, verse 4), how much more ought this to be so in the New! Yes, even if you do not know the reason, give thanks. For this is thanksgiving. If you give thanks when you are comfortable and well off, when things go well and you prosper, there is nothing great, nothing wonderful in that. What is required is for a person to give thanks when he is in troubles, in anguish, in discouragement. Say no word before this one: “Lord, I thank you.” [h]

And why do I speak of the troubles of this world? It is our duty to thank God even for hell itself, for the torments and punishments of the next world. For it is surely a benefit to those who pay attention to it, when the dread of hell is laid on our hearts like a bridle. So let us give thanks not only for the blessings we see, but also for those we do not see, and for those we receive against our will. For he gives us many blessings without our wanting them, without our knowing. And if you do not believe me, I will go on at once to make the case clear to you. Consider, I beg you: do not the godless and unbelieving pagans credit everything to the sun and to their idols? But what of it?

Does he not give blessings even to them? Is it not the work of his providence that they have life and health and children and the rest? [k]

And again, those who are called Marcionites, and the Manichaeans — do they not even blaspheme him? But what of it? Does he not give them blessings every day? Now if he gives blessings to those who do not know him, much more does he give them to us. For what else is God’s own proper work, if not this: to do good to all humankind, by punishments and by pleasures alike? So let us not give thanks only when things go well, for there is nothing great in that. The devil knows this well too, and that is why he said, “Does Job fear God for nothing? Have you not put a hedge around him and around all that he has on every side? Touch all that he has; surely he will renounce you to your face!” (Job 1, verses 10 and 11).

But that accursed one gained nothing by it — and may he never gain anything over us either! Whenever we are in poverty or sickness or disaster, then let us increase our thanksgiving: thanksgiving, I mean, not in words or with the tongue, but in deeds and works, in mind and heart. Let us thank him with our whole soul. For he loves us more than our parents do; and as wide as the difference is between evil and goodness, so great is the difference between God’s love and that of our fathers.

These are not my words, but the words of Christ himself, who loves us. Hear what he himself says: “What man is there among you who, if his son asks him for a loaf, will give him a stone? If you, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him?” (Matthew 7, verses 9 and 11). And hear again what he says elsewhere: “Can a woman forget her nursing child, and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Yes, they may forget, yet I will not forget you, says the Lord” (Isaiah 49, verse 15). For if he did not love us, why did he create us? Was he under any necessity? Do we supply him with any ministry or service? Does he need anything we can give him? Hear what the prophet says: “I said to the Lord, You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you” (Psalm 16, verse 2).

The ungrateful and unfeeling, however, say that it would be worthy of God’s goodness for there to be equality among all. Tell me, you ungrateful mortal: what sort of things are these that you deny belong to God’s goodness, and what equality do you mean? You will say: “So-and-so has been crippled from childhood; another is mad and possessed; another has reached extreme old age and spent his whole life in poverty; another, in the most painful diseases. Are these the works of providence? One man is deaf, another unable to speak, another poor; while another, godless — yes, utterly godless and full of ten thousand vices — enjoys wealth, keeps concubines and hangers-on, owns a splendid mansion, and lives a life of idleness.” And they string together many examples of this sort and weave a long complaint against the providence of God. [n]

What, then, are we to say to them? If they were Greeks and told us that the universe is governed by someone or other, we in turn would put the very same words to them: “What, then — are things without providence? Then how is it that you revere gods and worship guardian spirits and heroes? For if there is a providence, someone or other oversees the whole.” But if any, whether Christians or pagans, should grow impatient at this and waver, what will we say to them?

Why, tell me, could so many good things come about by themselves? The daily light? The beautiful order and forethought that exist in all things? The many dances of the stars? The even course of nights and days? The ordered ranks of nature in plants and animals and human beings? Who, tell me, is it that sets these in order? If there were no Being overseeing them, and everything had come together by itself, who was it that made this vault revolve — so beautiful, so vast, I mean the sky — and set it upon the earth, or rather, upon the waters? Who is it that gives the fruitful seasons? Who planted such great power in seeds and plants?

For what happens by accident is bound to be disorderly, whereas what is orderly shows design. Tell me, which of the accidental things around us is not full of great disorder, of great tumult and confusion? And I do not speak only of accidental things, but also of things that have someone at work on them, but an unskilled one. For example, let there be timber and stone, and lime as well; and let a man unskilled in building take them and begin to build and set hard to work. Will he not spoil and ruin everything?

Again, take a ship without a helmsman, holding everything a ship ought to hold, without a shipwright. I do not mean that it is unequipped and unfinished; even well equipped, it will not be able to sail. And tell me, could the vast expanse of the earth, standing on the waters, ever stand so firmly and for so long a time without some power holding it together? Can such views have any reason in them? Is it not the height of absurdity to imagine such a thing?

And if the earth supports the sky, here is yet another burden; but if the sky too is borne on the waters, another question arises again. Or rather, not another question, for this is the work of providence. For things borne on water ought to be made hollow, not domed. Why? Because the whole body of a hollow thing sinks down into the water, as happens with a ship; whereas with a domed thing the body is entirely above, and only the rim rests on the surface. So it needs a resisting body, hard and able to hold it up, to bear the weight laid on it. But does the air, then, support the sky? Why, the air is far softer and more yielding even than water, and cannot hold up anything, not even the very lightest things, much less so vast a bulk.

In short, if we chose to follow out the argument for providence, both in general and in detail, time itself would fail us. For I will now ask the man who raises the questions mentioned above: are these things the result of providence, or of the lack of it? And if he says they are not from providence, then I will ask him again: how, then, did they come about? But no, he will never be able to give any account at all.

And you do not know that? Then all the more it is your duty not to question, not to pry with curiosity, in the things that concern human beings. And why not? Because man is nobler than all these things, and they were made for his sake, not he for theirs. If, then, you do not know even the skill and contrivance that can be seen in his providence, how will you be able to know the reasons where man himself is the subject?

Tell me, I beg you, why did God make him so small, so far below the height of heaven, that he even has doubts about the things that appear above him? Why are the northern and southern regions uninhabitable? Tell me, I say, why is the night made longer in winter and shorter in summer? Why are the degrees of cold and heat what they are? Why is the body mortal? Ten thousand other questions I will ask you, and if you like, I will never stop asking; and in every one of them you will surely be at a loss for an answer. And so this is the most providential thing of all: that the reasons of things are kept hidden from us. For surely one would have imagined man to be the cause of all things, if there were not this to humble our understanding.

You will say: “But so-and-so is poor, and poverty is an evil. And what is it to be sick, and what is it to be crippled?” My friend, they are nothing. Only one thing is evil, and that is to sin. This is the only thing we ought to search out to the bottom. And yet we neglect to search into the causes of what really are evils, and busy ourselves with other things. Why is it that not one of us ever examines why he has sinned? To sin — is it in my power, or is it not in my power? And why do I need to go around looking for a pile of reasons? I will look for the answer within myself. Now, did I ever master my rage? Did I ever master my anger, whether from shame or from fear of people? Then whenever I find that I have done this, I will find that sinning is in my own power. [o]

No one examines these matters; no one busies himself with them. But, in the words of Job, “Man swims on words, going quite another way.” For why does it concern you if so-and-so is blind, or so-and-so is poor? God has not commanded you to look to this, but to what you yourself are doing.

For if, on the one hand, you doubt that there is any power overseeing the world, you are the most senseless of all people; but if you are persuaded of this, why doubt that it is our duty to please God?

“Giving thanks always,” he says, “for all things to God.”

Go to the physician’s, and you will see him using the knife and the cauterizing iron whenever someone is found to have a wound. But no, in your case I will not even take you as far as that; go to the carpenter’s. And yet you do not question his reasons, though you do not understand a single thing that is done there, and many things will look to you like problems — for instance, when he hollows out the wood, or when he changes its outward shape. Or rather, I would take you to a craft easier still to understand — the painter’s, say — and there your head will swim. For tell me, does he not seem to be doing what he does at random? What do his lines mean, and the turns and bends of the lines? But when he puts on the colors, then the beauty of the art will become plain. And yet not even then will you be able to reach any exact understanding of it.

But why do I speak of carpenters and painters, who are our fellow servants? Tell me how the bee builds her honeycomb, and then you may speak about God as well. Master the handiwork of the ant, the spider and the swallow, and then you may speak about God as well. Tell me these things. But no, you never can. Will you not stop, then, my friend, these empty inquiries? For empty they certainly are. Will you not stop busying yourself for nothing about many things? Nothing is as wise as this ignorance, in which those who profess to know nothing are the wisest of all, and those who spend too much labor on these questions are the most foolish of all. So professing knowledge is not everywhere a sign of wisdom; sometimes it is a sign of folly too.

For tell me, suppose there were two men, and one of them claimed he could stretch out his measuring lines and measure the space between the earth and heaven, and the other laughed at him and declared that he did not understand it. Tell me, I beg you, which should we laugh at: the one who said he knew, or the one who did not know? Clearly the man who said he knew.

So the one who is ignorant is wiser than the one who claims to know. And what next? If someone claimed he could tell us how many cups of water the sea holds, and another admitted his ignorance, is not the ignorance wiser than the knowledge here too? Surely, by far. And why? Because that knowledge is itself nothing but deep ignorance. For the one who says he does not know does know something. And what is that? That it is beyond human understanding. And that is no small part of knowledge. Whereas the one who says he knows, of all people, does not know what he says he knows, and for that very reason is utterly ridiculous. [p]

Alas! How many things there are to teach us to rein in this untimely meddling and idle curiosity! And yet we do not hold back, but are curious about other people’s lives: why this one is crippled, and why that one is poor. By this way of reasoning we will fall into another kind of trifling that has no end: why so-and-so is a woman, and why are not all men? Why is there such a thing as a donkey? Why an ox? Why a dog? Why a wolf? Why a stone? Why wood? And so the argument will run on without end. This, in truth, is why God has set limits to our knowledge and laid them deep in nature.

And notice now how excessive this busy curiosity is. We look up across so great a height as from earth to heaven and are not affected by it at all; yet as soon as we climb to the top of a tall tower and decide to lean over a little and look down, a kind of giddiness and dizziness seizes us at once. Now tell me the reason for this. No, you could never find a reason for it. Why does the eye have greater power than the other senses, and reach to more distant objects? One might see this by comparing it with hearing. For no one will ever be able to shout so loudly as to fill the air as far as the eye can reach, nor to hear at so great a distance. Why are not all the members of equal honor?

Why have they not all received one function and one place? Paul too searched into these questions — or rather, he did not search into them, for he was wise; but where he happens to come upon this subject, he says, “God has set each one of them as it pleased him” (First Corinthians 12, verse 18). He refers the whole thing to God’s will.

So then, let us only “give thanks for all things.” “Therefore,” he says, “give thanks for all things.” This is the mark of a well-disposed, wise, intelligent servant; the opposite is the mark of a gossip, an idler and a meddler. Do we not see among servants that the worthless and good-for-nothing ones are gossips and triflers, and pry into their masters’ affairs, which the masters wish to keep hidden? Whereas the intelligent and well-disposed look to one thing only: how to carry out their service.

The one who talks much does nothing, just as the one who does much never says a word out of season. That is why Paul, writing about widows, said, “And they learn not only to be idle, but gossips as well” (First Timothy 5, verse 13). Tell me now, which is the wider difference: between our age and that of children, or between God and human beings? Between ourselves and gnats, or between God and us? Plainly between God and us. Why, then, do you busy yourself so much with all these questions? “Give thanks for all things.”

But you say: “What if a pagan asks the question? How am I to answer him? He wants to learn from me whether there is a providence, for he himself denies that there is any being who exercises foresight like this.” Then turn it around and ask him the same question yourself. He will deny, then, that there is a providence. Yet that there is a providence is plain from what you have said; but that it is beyond understanding is plain from those things whose reason we cannot discover. For if in matters that people arrange we often do not understand the method of the arrangement, and many of them actually seem to us inconsistent, and yet at the same time we accept them, how much more must this be so with God? With God, however, nothing either is inconsistent or seems so to the faithful. So let us “give thanks for all things”; let us give him glory for all things.

“Submitting yourselves to one another,” he says, “in the fear of Christ.” [q]

If you submit yourself for a ruler’s sake, or for money’s sake, or out of respect, much more should you do it from the fear of Christ. Let there be an exchange of service and submission, for then there will be no such thing as slavish service. Let not one sit in the rank of a free man and the other in the rank of a slave. Rather, it would be better for masters and slaves alike to be servants to one another — far better to be a slave in this way than free in any other. This will be clear from the following.

Imagine a man who had a hundred slaves and in no way served them; and imagine, on the other hand, a hundred friends all waiting on one another. Which will live the happier life? Which with more pleasure, with more enjoyment? In the one case there is no anger, no provocation, no rage, nor anything else of the kind; in the other everything is fear and dread. In the one case everything is forced; in the other it is freely chosen. In the one, they serve one another because they are forced to; in the other, with pleasure on both sides. This is how God wants it to be; for this he washed his disciples’ feet.

What is more, if you care to examine the matter closely, masters do in fact render service in return. For what does it matter if pride does not let that return of service be seen? If the slave on the one hand gives his bodily service, and you keep that body going and supply it with food and clothing and shoes, this is an exchange of service. For unless you render your service as well, he will not render his either, but will be free, and no law will compel him to serve if he is not supported. If this is how it is with servants, where is the absurdity if it should also become so among free people?

“Submitting yourselves,” he says, “in the fear of Christ.” How great, then, is the obligation, when we will also have a reward! But he does not choose to submit himself to you? Submit yourself anyway — not simply give way, but submit yourself. Have this attitude toward everyone, as if all were your masters. For in this way you will soon have them all as your slaves, bound to you in the most abject slavery. For you will make them yours more surely when, without receiving anything of theirs, you give them what is yours of your own accord. This is “submitting yourselves to one another in the fear of Christ,” so that we may master all the passions, be servants of God, and keep the love we owe one another. And then we will also be able to be counted worthy of the love for humankind that comes from God, through the grace and mercies of his only Son, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might and honor, now and forever and ever. Amen.