Homily 6 — Philippians 2, verses 5 to 8

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on Philippians

Homily 6 — Philippians 2, verses 5 to 8

Philippians 2, verses 5 to 8

“Have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the form of God, did not count it a prize to be equal with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men; and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient even to death, yes, the death of the cross.”

When our Lord Jesus Christ urges his disciples on to great deeds, he sets before them himself, and the Father, and the prophets as examples. So he says, “For that is how they treated the prophets who were before you” (Matthew 5, verse 12; Luke 6, verse 23); and again, “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15, verse 20); and, “Learn from me, for I am gentle” (Matthew 11, verse 29); and again, “Be merciful, as your Father who is in heaven is merciful” (Luke 6, verse 36). The blessed Paul did this too: when he urged them to humility, he brought Christ forward. And he does so not only here. When he speaks about love toward the poor, he talks the same way: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor” (Second Corinthians 8, verse 9).

Nothing rouses a great soul, a soul given to philosophy, to do good works so much as learning that in doing them it is made like God. What encouragement is equal to that? None. Paul knew this well. So when he wanted to urge them to humility, he first begged and pleaded with them; then, to make them stand in awe, he said, “that you stand firm in one Spirit”; and he said too that this “is to them a clear sign of destruction, but of your salvation” (Philippians 1, verses 27 and 28). And last of all he says this: “Have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not count it a prize to be equal with God, but emptied himself, taking on himself the form of a servant” (Philippians 2, verses 5 to 7).

Pay attention, I beg you, and wake yourselves up. A sharp two-edged sword, wherever it falls, even among ten thousand ranks of soldiers, easily cuts through them and destroys them, because it is sharp on every side and nothing can stand up to its edge. The words of the Spirit are like that (Hebrews 4, verse 12; Revelation 1, verse 16). For by these words he has laid low the followers of Arius of Alexandria, of Paul of Samosata, of Marcellus the Galatian, of Sabellius the Libyan, of Marcion from Pontus, of Valentinus, of Mani, of Apollinarius of Laodicea, of Photinus, of Sophronius — in a word, all the heresies.

Wake up, then, to watch so great a spectacle — so many armies falling at a single stroke — so that the pleasure of such a sight does not slip past you. When chariots compete in the horse race, nothing is so delightful as when one of them crashes into whole chariots and overturns them, drivers and all; and after throwing down many of them with the charioteers who stood in them, drives on alone toward the finishing post and the end of the course, while the applause and the shouting rise to heaven on every side, and its horses, as though given wings by that joy and that applause, sweep over the whole ground. How much greater will the pleasure be here, when by the grace of God we overthrow all at once, in a body, the alliances and devilish schemes of all these heresies, together with their charioteers?

And if you like, we will first set out the heresies themselves in order. Would you have them in the order of their ungodliness, or of their dates? In the order of time, since it is hard to judge the order of their ungodliness. First, then, let Sabellius the Libyan come forward. What does he claim? That the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are mere names given to one person. Marcion of Pontus says that God, the Creator of all things, is not good, and is not the Father of the good Christ, but is another, a just God; and that Christ did not take flesh for us. Marcellus, Photinus, and Sophronius claim that the Word is an activity, and that it was this activity that lived in him who came from the seed of David — not a being with a real existence of his own.

Arius does confess the Son, but only in word: he says that he is a created being, and far inferior to the Father. And others say that he did not have a soul. Do you see the chariots standing ready? Now see them fall — how he overthrows them all together, and with a single stroke. How? “Have the same mind in you,” he says, “which was in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not count it a prize to be equal with God.” And down go Paul of Samosata, and Marcellus, and Sabellius. For he says, “being in the form of God.” If he was “in the form,” how can you say, you wicked man, that he took his beginning from Mary and did not exist before? And how can you say that he was an activity? For it is written, “The form of God took the form of a servant.” “The form of a servant” — is that a servant’s activity, or a servant’s nature? A servant’s nature, surely, I would think. So too “the form of God” is the nature of God, and therefore not an activity. See, Marcellus of Galatia, Sophronius, and Photinus have fallen too.

Look at Sabellius, too. It is written, “He did not count it a prize to be equal with God.” Now equality is not spoken of where there is only one person; what is equal has something to be equal to. Do you not see here two persons, each with a real existence, and not empty names with nothing behind them? Do you not hear here that the only Son existed beforehand, from eternity?

Last of all, what shall we say to Arius, who claims that the Son is of a different essence? Tell me now: what does “he took the form of a servant” mean? It means he became man. So “being in the form of God,” he was God. One “form” is named and another “form”; if the one is real, the other is real too. “The form of a servant” means man by nature; so “the form of God” means God by nature. And Paul bears witness not only to this but to his equality as well, as John also does: that he is in no way inferior to the Father. For he says, “He did not think it a thing to seize, to be equal with God.” Now what is their clever reasoning? They say: “No — he proves the very opposite. For he says that ‘being in the form of God, he did not seize equality with God.’ If he was God, how could he ‘seize’ it? Is that not meaningless? Who would say of someone who is a man that he did not seize on being a man? How could anyone seize what he already is?” And again they say: “No — he means that, being a little God, he did not seize on being equal to the great God, who was greater than he.” Is there a great God and a little God? Are you bringing the teachings of the Greeks in on top of the teachings of the church? Among them there is a great God and a little one. Whether it is so among you, I do not know. You will find it nowhere in the Scriptures. There you will find a great God everywhere, and a little one nowhere. If he were little, how could he also be God? If man is not little and great, but one nature, and if what is not of this one nature is not man, how can there be a little God and a great one?

Whoever is not of that nature is not God. For he is called great everywhere in Scripture: “Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised” (Psalm 48, verse 1).

This is said of the Son as well, for Scripture always calls him Lord. “You are great, and you do wonderful things; you alone are God” (Psalm 86, verse 10). And again, “Great is our Lord, and great is his power, and of his greatness there is no end” (Psalm 145, verse 3).

But, he says: “The Son is little.” It is you who say this. Scripture says the opposite: it speaks of the Son just as it speaks of the Father. Listen to Paul: “Looking for the blessed hope and appearing of the glory of our great God” (Titus 2, verse 13). But could he have said “appearing” of the Father? No; and to convince you all the more, he has added, with reference to the appearing, “of the great God.” Is it then not said of the Father? Not at all. The words that follow do not allow it, for they say, “the appearing of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ.” See, the Son is great as well. How then can you talk of a small God and a great one?

Listen to the prophet too, calling him “the Messenger of great counsel” (Isaiah 9, verse 6). “The Messenger of great counsel” — is he not great himself?

“The mighty God” — is he small, and not great? What do these shameless and reckless men mean, then, when they say that he is a God while being little? I repeat what they say again and again, so that you may avoid them all the more. Being a lesser God, he did not seize for himself to be like the greater God! Tell me now — and do not think these words are mine — if he were little, as they say, and far below the Father in power, how could he possibly have seized equality with God for himself? A lower nature could not seize for itself entry into what is great. A man, for example, could not seize on becoming equal to an angel in nature; a horse could not, even if it wanted to, seize on being equal to a man in nature. But besides all that, I will say this too. What does Paul want to establish by this example?

Surely, to lead the Philippians to humility. Why, then, did he bring forward this example? No one who wanted to urge humility would talk like this: “Be humble, and think less of yourself than of those who are your equals in honor; for so-and-so, who is a slave, has not risen up against his master — imitate him.” Anyone would say that this is not humility but arrogance. Learn what humility is, you whose pride is devilish!

What, then, is humility? To be lowly-minded. And the lowly-minded man is the one who humbles himself, not the one who is lowly by necessity. Let me explain what I mean — and pay attention. The man who is lowly-minded when it is in his power to be high-minded is humble; but the man who is lowly because he is not able to be high-minded is no longer humble. For example, if a king places himself beneath his own officer, he is humble, for he comes down from his high station. But if an officer does so, he will not be lowly-minded. How could he be? He has not humbled himself from any high station. It is not possible to show humility unless it is in our power to do otherwise. For if we have to be humble even against our will, that excellence does not come from the spirit or the will, but from necessity. This virtue is called humble-mindedness because it is the humbling of the mind.

If a man who has no power to grab what belongs to another keeps to what is his own, would we praise him, do you think, for being just? I think not. And why? Because the necessity takes away the credit that belongs to free choice. If a man who has no power to seize the throne and make himself king stays a private citizen, would we praise him for living quietly? I think not. The same rule applies here. For praise, you utterly senseless people, is not given for keeping away from such things, but for doing good. Keeping away from them does free a man from blame, but it does not yet earn praise; it is doing good that deserves to be praised. Notice, then, that Christ gives praise on this principle, when he says, “Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink” (Matthew 25, verses 34 and 35). He did not say, “Because you have not been greedy, because you have not robbed” — those are small things — but, “because you saw me hungry and fed me.”

Whoever praised either his friends or his enemies in this way? No one ever praised even Paul like this. Why do I say Paul? No one ever praised even an ordinary man the way you praise Christ — because he did not take a rule that was not his due. To admire someone for such things is a sign of great wickedness. Why? Because among evil men this counts as praise — as it does for a thief, if he stops stealing — but among good men it is otherwise (Ephesians 4, verse 28). Because a man has not seized a rule and an honor that were not his due, is he worthy of praise? What folly is this?

Pay attention, I beg you, for the argument is long. Again: who would ever urge humility on grounds like these? Examples ought to be much greater than the thing we are urging, for no one is moved by something foreign to the subject. For instance, when Christ wanted to lead us to do good to our enemies, he brought a great example, that of his own Father: “For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5, verse 45). When he wanted to lead us to bear wrong patiently, he brought an example: “Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11, verse 29). And again: “If I, your Lord and Teacher, do these things, how much more should you?” (John 13, verse 14).

Do you see that these examples are not remote? There is no need for them to be so remote, for we too do these things — especially as in this case the example is not even near. How so? If he is a servant, he is inferior, and subject to the one who is greater — but that is not lowliness of mind. What had to be shown was the opposite: that the greater person put himself beneath the lesser. But since in God he found no such distinction between greater and lesser, he at least showed an equality. Now if the Son were inferior, this would not be a sufficient example to lead us to humility. Why? Because it is not humility for the lesser not to rise up against the greater, not to snatch at rule, and to be “obedient to death.”

Again, consider what he says after the example: “In lowliness of mind, each counting the other better than himself” (Philippians 2, verse 3). He says “counting,” because you are of one nature, and one in the honor that comes from God, so it follows that the matter is one of how you esteem each other. Now in the case of those who are greater and lesser, he would not have said “counting,” but “honor those who are better than yourselves,” as he says in another place: “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them” (Hebrews 13, verse 17). In that case submission follows from the nature of the situation; in this one, from our own judgment. “In lowliness of mind,” he says, “each counting the other better than himself,” as Christ also did.

So their explanations are overthrown. It remains for me to speak of our own, after first summing up theirs. In urging lowliness of mind, Paul would never have brought forward a lesser person obeying a greater. If he were urging slaves to obey their masters, he might properly have done so. But when he is urging free people to obey free people, what would be the point of bringing forward a servant’s submission to a master, a lesser to a greater? He does not say, “Let the lesser be subject to the greater,” but, “You who are equal in honor with one another, be subject, each counting the other better than himself.” Why, then, did he not bring forward even the obedience of a wife, and say, “As the wife obeys her husband, so you also obey”? Now if he did not bring forward that relationship, in which there is equality and freedom, since the submission in it is slight, how much less would he have brought forward the submission of a slave? I said above that no one praises a man in this way for keeping away from evil, or even mentions him at all. No one who wants to praise a man for self-control would say, “He has not committed adultery,” but, “He has kept away from his own wife.” We do not count keeping away from evil as a matter of praise at all; that would be ridiculous.

I said that “the form of a servant” was a true form, and nothing less.

Therefore “the form of God” is also complete, and nothing less. Why does he not say, “being made in the form of God,” but “being in the form of God”? This is the same as the saying, “I am who I am” (Exodus 3, verse 14). “Form” implies that there is no change, insofar as it is form. Things of one essence cannot have the form of another: no man has the form of an angel, and no animal has the form of a man. How then could the Son?

In our own case, since we human beings are of a composite nature, form belongs to the body. But in the case of a nature that is simple and not composite at all, form belongs to the essence. And if you argue that he is not speaking of the Father, because the word “God” is used without the article — in many places the Father is meant, even though the word is used without the article.

Why do I say in many places? In this very place he says, “He did not count it a prize to be equal with God,” using the word without the article, though he is speaking of God the Father.

I would add our own explanation, but I am afraid of overwhelming your minds. For the present, remember what has been said to refute them. For the present, let us root out the thorns; then we will scatter the good seed, once the thorns have been rooted out and the land has been given a little rest, so that, rid of all the harm it took on from them, it may receive the divine seed with its full strength.

Let us give thanks to God for what has been said. Let us ask him to grant us to guard it and keep it safe, so that both we and you may rejoice, and the heretics may be put to shame. Let us ask him to open our mouth for what follows, so that we may set out our own views with the same earnestness. Let us pray to him to grant us a life worthy of the faith, so that we may live to his glory, and his name may not be blasphemed because of us. For it is written, “Woe to you, through whom the name of God is blasphemed” (Isaiah 52, verse 5, nearly as the Greek Old Testament has it). If we have a son — and what is more our own than a son? — if, I say, we have a son and are spoken ill of because of him, we disown him publicly, turn away from him, and will not take him in. How much more will God, when he has ungrateful servants who blaspheme and insult him, turn away from them and hate them? And who will take up the one whom God hates and turns away from, except the devil and the demons?

And whoever the demons take — what hope of salvation is left for him? What comfort in life?

As long as we are in the hand of God, “no one can snatch us out” (John 10, verse 28), for that hand is strong. But when we fall away from that hand and that help, then we are lost, then we are left exposed, ready to be carried off, like “a leaning wall and a tottering fence” (Psalm 62, verse 3). When the wall is weak, anyone can easily get over it. Do not think that what I am about to say applies to Jerusalem alone; it applies to everyone. And what was said of Jerusalem? “Now I will sing to my beloved a song of my beloved concerning his vineyard. My beloved has a vineyard on a very fertile hill. And I put a fence around it, and surrounded it with a ditch, and planted it with the vine of Sorek, and built a tower in the middle of it, and also dug a winepress in it. And I waited for it to produce grapes, and it produced thorns. And now, you men of Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem, judge between me and my vineyard. What should have been done to my vineyard that I have not done to it?

“Why, when I waited for it to produce grapes, did it produce thorns? So now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard: I will take away its hedge, and it will be plundered; and I will break down its wall, and it will be trampled down. And I will abandon my vineyard, and it will not be pruned or dug, but thorns will come up on it as on a desert land. I will also command the clouds to rain no rain on it. For the vineyard of the Lord of Sabaoth is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah are his pleasant plant. I waited for it to do justice, but it committed wrongdoing, and there was a cry instead of righteousness” (Isaiah 5, verses 1 to 7, in the Greek Old Testament).

This is said of every soul as well. When God, who loves humankind, has done all that is needed, and a person then produces thorns instead of grapes, he will take away the fence and break down the wall, and we will be plundered. For listen to what another prophet says in his lament: “Why have you broken down her fences, so that all who pass by on the road pluck her? The boar out of the wood ravages it, and the wild beasts of the field feed on it” (Psalm 80, verses 12 and 13). In the former passage he speaks of the Mede and the Babylonian. Here nothing is said of them; but “the boar” and “the solitary beast” are the devil and all his host, because of how savage and unclean his character is. When Scripture wants to show us his greed for plunder, it says, “Like a roaring lion he walks about, seeking someone to devour” (First Peter 5, verse 8). When it wants to show his poisonous, deadly, destructive nature, it calls him a snake and a scorpion:

For he says, “Tread on serpents and scorpions, and on all the power of the enemy” (Luke 10, verse 19). And when Scripture wants to show his strength as well as his venom, it calls him a dragon, as when it says, “this dragon, whom you formed to play in it” (Psalm 104, verse 26).

Everywhere Scripture calls him a dragon, and a crooked serpent, and an adder (Psalm 74, verses 13 and 14). He is a beast of many coils, full of varied tricks, and his strength is great. He moves everything, he throws everything into confusion, he turns everything upside down (Isaiah 27, verse 1; Isaiah 51, verse 9; Ezekiel 29, verse 3; Ezekiel 32, verse 2). But do not fear, and do not be afraid. Only keep watch, and he will be like a sparrow. For he says, “Tread on serpents and scorpions.” If we are willing, God puts him under our feet to be trampled.

Think, then, what a disgrace it is — yes, what a misery — to see him standing over our heads — he who was given to us to trample down! And where does this come from? From ourselves. If we choose, he becomes great; and if we choose, he becomes weak. If we pay attention to ourselves and take our stand with him who is our King, he draws himself in, and in his war against us he will be no better than a little child. But whenever we stand apart from our King, he puffs himself up enormously, he makes terrible noises, he grinds his teeth, because he finds us without our greatest help.

For he will not come near us unless God allows him. If he did not dare to go even into the herd of pigs without God’s permission, how much less into human souls! But God does allow him, either to correct us, or to punish us, or to make us more proven, as in the case of Job. Do you see that he did not come to Job, and did not even dare to come near him, but trembled and shook? And why do I speak of Job? When the devil sprang on Judas, he did not dare to seize him completely and go into him until Christ had cut him off from the sacred band. He attacked him from outside, but he did not dare to go in. But when he saw him cut off from that holy flock, he sprang on him more fiercely than a wolf, and did not let him go until he had killed him with a double death.

These things are written to warn us. What do we gain from knowing that one of the Twelve was a traitor? What profit is there in it? What advantage? A great deal. When we know how he came to that deadly plan, we are on our guard, so that we do not suffer the same thing ourselves.

How did he come to it? Through the love of money. He was a thief. For thirty pieces of silver he betrayed his Lord. He was so drunk with this passion that he betrayed the Lord of the world for thirty pieces of silver. What could be worse than this madness? The one to whom nothing is equivalent, to whom nothing is equal, “before whom the nations are as nothing” (Isaiah 40, verse 15) — him he betrayed for thirty pieces of silver. The love of gold is a cruel tyrant indeed, and terrible at driving the soul out of its senses. Drunkenness does not put a man out of his senses as much as the love of money does; madness and insanity do not do it as much as the love of money.

Tell me, why did you betray him? He called you when you were a man no one noticed or knew. He made you one of the Twelve. He gave you a share in his teaching. He promised you ten thousand good things. He made you able to work wonders. You shared the same table, the same journeys, the same company, the same conversation as the rest. Were not these things enough to hold you back? Why did you betray him? What did you have to accuse him of, you wicked man? Or rather, what good did you not receive at his hands? He knew your mind, and still he did not stop doing his part. Again and again he said, “One of you will betray me” (Matthew 26, verse 21).

Again and again he marked you out, and yet he spared you. Though he knew what kind of man you were, he did not throw you out of the band. He still bore with you; he still honored you and loved you as a true disciple and as one of the Twelve. And last of all — oh, how vile you were! — he took a towel, and with his own spotless hands he washed your filthy feet, and not even this held you back. You stole what belonged to the poor, and he bore that too, so that you would not go on to a greater sin. Nothing persuaded you. If you had been an animal, or a stone, would you not have been changed by such kindness toward you, by such wonders, by such teaching? Brutish as you had become, he still called you, and drew you to himself by wonderful works — you who were more senseless than a stone. Yet none of these things made you any better.

Perhaps you are amazed at the traitor’s folly. Then fear what wounded him. He became what he was through greed, through the love of money. Cut out this passion, for these are the diseases it gives birth to. It makes us ungodly, and it leaves us not knowing God, though we have received ten thousand benefits at his hands. Cut it out, I beg you. It is no ordinary disease; it knows how to give birth to a thousand ruinous deaths. We have seen his tragedy. Let us be afraid that we too may fall into the same traps. That is why it was written: so that we would not suffer the same things. That is why all the Gospel writers told it: to hold us back.

So flee far from it. Greed does not consist only in loving a great deal of money, but in loving money at all. It is terrible greed to want more than we need. Was it talents of gold that persuaded the traitor? For thirty pieces of silver he betrayed his Lord. Do you not remember what I said before, that greed shows itself not in taking much, but rather in taking little things? See how great a crime he committed for a little gold — or rather, not for gold, but for pieces of silver.

It cannot be, it cannot be that a greedy man will ever see the face of Christ! This is one of the things that are impossible. Greed is a root of evils; and if the one who has a single evil thing falls from that glory, where will the one stand who carries the root around with him? The one who is a servant of money cannot be a true servant of Christ. Christ himself has declared that the thing is impossible: “You cannot serve God and Mammon,” he says, and, “No one can serve two masters” (Matthew 6, verse 24). For they give us opposite orders.

Christ says, “Spare the poor.” Mammon says, “Strip even the naked of what they have.” Christ says, “Empty yourself of what you have.” Mammon says, “Take what you do not have as well.” Do you see the opposition? Do you see the conflict? How is it that a person cannot easily obey both, but must despise one of them? But does this even need proof?

How so? Do we not see in actual fact that Christ is despised and Mammon honored? Do you not see how painful even the words are?

How much more painful, then, is the thing itself? Yet in reality it does not seem so painful, because we are in the grip of the disease. If the soul is cleansed of the disease even a little, it can judge rightly, as long as it stays where it is. But when it wanders off, and the fever seizes it, and it is caught up in the pleasure of the thing, its perception is no longer clear, and its judgment seat is no longer free of corruption.

Christ says, “Whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14, verse 33). Mammon says, “Take the bread from the hungry.” Christ says, “Cover the naked” (Isaiah 58, verse 7); the other says, “Strip the naked.” Christ says, “Do not hide yourself from your own flesh” (Isaiah 58, verse 7), and from those of your own house. Mammon says, “Have no pity on those of your own blood. Even if you see your mother or your father in need, despise them.” And why do I say father or mother? “Even your own soul,” he says, “destroy it too.”

And he is obeyed! Alas! The one who orders us to do cruel, mad and brutal things is listened to, rather than the one who bids us do what is gentle and wholesome! This is why hell has been prepared; this is why there is fire; this is why there is a river of fire; this is why there is a worm that never dies.

I know that many of you hear me say these things with pain, and indeed I do not say them without pain. But why do I need to say them? I would like the things of the kingdom to be always my subject: the rest, the waters of rest, the green pastures, as the Scripture says: “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside the still waters” (Psalm 23, verse 2); “there he makes me dwell.” I would like to speak of the place from which “sorrow and sighing will flee away” (Isaiah 51, verse 11).

I would like to talk about the delights of being with Christ, though they are beyond all words and all understanding. Even so, I would speak of them as well as I am able. But what am I to do? It is not possible to talk about a kingdom to someone who is sick and feverish; then we have to talk about health. It is not possible to talk about honor to someone who has been brought to trial, for at that moment his one desire is to be set free from judgment and penalty and punishment. If that is not done first, how will the other be? That is why I am constantly speaking of these things: so that we may the sooner pass on to those others.

This is why God threatens hell: so that no one may fall into hell, so that we may all obtain the kingdom. This is why we too keep mentioning hell: to drive you on toward the kingdom, so that once we have softened your minds by fear, we may bring you to act in a way worthy of the kingdom.

So do not be displeased at the heaviness of our words, for the heaviness of these words lightens our souls of sin. Iron is heavy, and the hammer is heavy, but it shapes useful vessels of gold and silver, and it straightens things that are crooked; if it were not heavy, it would have no power to straighten the bent metal. In the same way our heavy speech has the power to bring the soul back into its proper tone. So let us not run from heavy speech, or from the blows it gives. The blow is not given to shatter the soul or tear it apart, but to straighten it.

We know how we strike — how, by the grace of God, we deliver the blow — so as not to crush the vessel but to polish it, to make it straight and “fit for the Master’s use,” to present it gleaming and sound, skillfully worked, for that Day of the river of fire; to present it with no need of that burning pyre. For if we do not expose ourselves to fire here, we must be burned there; it cannot be otherwise. “For the day of the Lord is revealed by fire” (First Corinthians 3, verse 13). It is better for you to be burned for a little while by our words than to burn forever in that flame.

That this really will be so is plain, and I have often given you reasons that cannot be contradicted. We ought, truly, to be persuaded from the Scriptures; but because some people like to argue, we have also brought forward many arguments from reason. Nothing prevents me from mentioning them now. What were they? God is just. We all admit this: Greeks and Jews, heretics and Christians. But many sinners have departed this life without punishment, and many righteous people have departed after suffering ten thousand terrible things. If God is just, then, where will he give the one their reward for their good and the other their punishment, if there is no hell, if there is no resurrection?

Keep repeating this reason to them and to yourselves, and it will not let you disbelieve the resurrection. And whoever does not disbelieve the resurrection will take care to live with all attention, so as to obtain eternal happiness. May we all be counted worthy of it, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.