Homilies on Colossians
Homily 10 — Colossians 3, verse 18, to 4, verse 4
Colossians 3, verse 18, to 4, verse 4
“Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be bitter toward them. Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing in the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, so that they will not lose heart. Slaves, obey in all things those who are your masters according to the flesh; not with eye-service, as people-pleasers, but in simplicity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it from the heart, as for the Lord and not for people, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance: you serve the Lord Christ. For the one who does wrong will be paid back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality with God. (Colossians 4, verse 1.) Masters, give your slaves what is just and fair, knowing that you too have a Master in heaven.”
Why does he not give these commands everywhere, in all his letters, but only here, and in the letter to the Ephesians, and in the letters to Timothy and to Titus? Perhaps because there were quarrels in these cities; or perhaps because they were in good order in other respects, so that it was to their advantage to hear about these things. Yet what he says to these, he says to all.
In these things too this letter closely resembles the one to the Ephesians. Either it was not fitting to write about these things to people who were now at peace and who needed to be taught the lofty doctrines they still lacked, or else, for people who had been comforted in their trials, it would have been superfluous to hear about these subjects. So I conjecture that in this place the church was by now well grounded, and that these things are said as the letter draws to its close.
Verse 18: “Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.” That is, be subject for God’s sake, because this is what adorns you, he says — not them. For I do not mean the subjection owed to a master, nor only the subjection that comes from nature, but the subjection that is for God’s sake.
Verse 19: “Husbands, love your wives, and do not be bitter toward them.” See how once again he has urged a duty that runs both ways. As in the other case he commands fear and love, so he does here too. For it is possible even for someone who loves to be bitter. What he says, then, is this: Do not quarrel. For nothing is more bitter than this quarreling when it comes from the husband toward the wife. The quarrels that happen between people who love each other are the bitter ones. And he shows that it comes from great bitterness when, as he says, anyone is at odds with his own member.
To love, then, is the husband’s part; to yield belongs to the other side. So if each contributes his own part, everything stands firm. From being loved, the wife too becomes loving; and from her being submissive, the husband becomes yielding. And see how in nature too it has been so ordered that the one should love and the other obey. For when the one who governs loves the one who is governed, then everything holds fast. Love from the governed is not so necessary as love from the one who governs toward the governed, for from the other side obedience is owed. The fact that the woman has beauty and the man desire shows nothing else than that things have been made so for the sake of love.
So do not play the tyrant because your wife is subject to you; and you, do not be puffed up because your husband loves you. Do not let the husband’s love make the wife proud, nor the wife’s subjection puff up the husband. This is why God has made her subject to you: so that she may be loved all the more. This is why he has made you to be loved, wife: so that you may easily bear your subjection. Do not be afraid of being subject, for subjection to one who loves you has nothing hard in it. Do not be afraid of loving, for you have her yielding to you. In no other way could there have been a bond. You have your authority, then, of necessity, as something that comes from nature; keep also the bond that comes from love, for this is what makes it bearable for the weaker.
Verse 20: “Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing in the Lord.” Once again he has put in that “in the Lord,” at one and the same time laying down the laws of obedience, putting them to shame, and humbling them. For this, he says, is well pleasing to the Lord. See how he wants us to do everything not from nature only, but, before that, because it is pleasing to God, so that we may also have a reward.
Verse 21: “Fathers, do not provoke your children, so that they will not lose heart.” Look — here again are subjection and love. He did not say, “Love your children,” for that would have been superfluous, since nature itself compels us to it. But what needed correcting, he corrected: that here too the love should be all the stronger, because the obedience is greater.
For Scripture nowhere holds up the relation of husband and wife as its example. What, then? Listen to the prophet saying, “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has had compassion on those who fear him” (Psalm 103, verse 13). And again Christ says, “What man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?” (Matthew 7, verse 9.)
“Fathers, do not provoke your children, so that they will not lose heart.” He has set down what he knew had the greatest power to take hold of them. And while giving them a command, he has spoken more like a friend. Nowhere does he mention God, for he wanted to win the parents over and to bend their tender affection. That is: “Do not make them more contentious; there are times when you ought even to give way.”
Next he comes to the third kind of authority. Here too there is a kind of love, but no longer one that comes from nature, as above; it comes from habit, from the authority itself, and from the work done. Since in this case the room for love is narrowed and the room for obedience is widened, he dwells on this, wanting to give these people through their obedience what the first have from nature. So what he says to the slaves alone is not for their masters’ sake, but for their own as well, so that they may make themselves objects of tender affection to their masters. But he does not set this out openly, for then he would surely have made them careless.
Verse 22: “Slaves,” he says, “obey in all things your masters according to the flesh.” See how he always sets down the names — “wives,” “children,” “slaves” — each of them at the same time a just claim on their obedience. But so that no one would be hurt, he added, “your masters according to the flesh.” Your better part, the soul, is free, he says; your slavery is for a season. So subject it yourself, so that your service is no longer forced.
“Not with eye-service, as people-pleasers.” Make the service you owe by law, he says, come from the fear of Christ. For if you do your duty, and what brings your master honor, when he does not see you, it is plain that you do it because of the Eye that never sleeps. “Not with eye-service,” he says, “as people-pleasers,” implying, “It is you who will suffer the loss.” For listen to the prophet saying, “God has scattered the bones of the people-pleasers” (Psalm 53, verse 5). See, then, how he spares them and brings them into order.
“But in simplicity of heart,” he says, “fearing God.” For it is not simplicity but hypocrisy to think one thing and do another, to be one person when the master is present and another when he is absent.
That is why he did not say simply, “in simplicity of heart,” but, “fearing God.” For this is what it is to fear God: when no one sees us, and still we do nothing evil. But if we do evil, we fear not God but people. Do you see how he brings them into order?
Verse 23: “Whatever you do, work at it from the heart, as for the Lord and not for people.” He wants them free not only from hypocrisy but also from laziness. He has made them free instead of slaves, when they do not need their master watching over them. For the words “from the heart” mean “with goodwill”: not with a slave’s compulsion, but freely and by choice. And what is the reward?
Verse 24: “Knowing,” he says, “that from the Lord you will receive the reward of your inheritance, for you serve the Lord Christ.” For from him too, clearly, you will receive the reward; and that you serve the Lord is plain from this: Verse 25: “For the one who does wrong,” he says, “will be paid back for the wrong he has done.”
Here he confirms what he said before. So that his words would not seem to be flattery, he says, “he will be paid back for the wrong he has done” — that is, he will also suffer punishment — “for there is no partiality.” For what if you are a slave? It is no shame to you. And he might well have said this to the masters, as he did in the letter to the Ephesians (Ephesians 6, verse 9). But here he seems to me to be hinting at the Greek masters. For what if your master is a Greek and you a Christian? It is not the persons but the actions that are examined, so that even in this case you ought to serve with goodwill and from the heart.
Chapter 4, verse 1: “Masters, give your slaves what is just and fair.” What is “just”? What is “fair”? To set them in plenty of everything, and not let them stand in need of others, but to repay them for their labors. For because I have said that they have their reward from God, do not you for that reason rob them of it. In another place he says, “giving up threatening” (Ephesians 6, verse 9), wanting to make them gentler, for those were mature men. That is, “With the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7, verse 2).
And the words “there is no partiality” are spoken with these in view, but they are addressed to the others, so that these may take them to heart. For when we say to one person what applies to another, we correct not so much him as the one who is at fault. “You too,” he says — along with them. Here he has made the service a shared one, for he says, “knowing that you too have a Master in heaven.”
Prayer and Thanksgiving
Verse 2: “Persevere in prayer, keeping watch in it with thanksgiving.” Since persevering in prayer often makes people listless, he says “keeping watch” — that is, clear-headed, not wandering. For the devil knows, he knows, how great a good prayer is; that is why he presses hard. And Paul knows too how careless many are when they pray; that is why he says “persevere” in prayer, as of something that takes labor, “keeping watch in it with thanksgiving.” For let this be your work, he says: to give thanks in your prayers both for what is seen and for what is unseen, for his benefits to us whether we are willing or unwilling, for the kingdom, and for hell, and for distress, and for relief. For this is how the saints are accustomed to pray, giving thanks for the benefits all share.
I know a certain holy man who prays like this. He used to say nothing before these words, but this:
“We give you thanks for all your benefits given to us, the unworthy, from the first day until now: for those we know and those we do not know, for the seen and the unseen, for those in deed and those in word, for those given with our will and those against our will, for all that have been given to the unworthy, even to us; for distresses, for times of relief, for hell, for punishment, for the kingdom of heaven. We ask you to keep our soul holy, with a pure conscience, and to grant us an end worthy of your love for humankind. You who loved us so much as to give your only Son for us, grant that we may become worthy of your love. Give us wisdom in your word and in the fear of you. Only Son, Christ, breathe into us the strength that comes from you. You who gave your only Son for us, and have sent your Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of our sins: if in anything we have done wrong, willingly or unwillingly, pardon us, and do not count it against us. Remember all who call on your name in truth; remember all who wish us well, or the opposite, for we are all human.”
Then, adding the prayer of the faithful, he ended there, having made that prayer a kind of crown and a binding together of all the rest. For God gives us many benefits even against our will, and many — indeed more — without our even knowing it. For when we pray for one thing and he does the opposite for us, it is plain that he does us good even when we do not know it.
Verse 3: “Praying at the same time for us too.” See his humility: he puts himself after them.
“That God may open to us a door for the word, to speak the mystery of Christ.” He means an entrance, and boldness in speaking. How wonderful! The great athlete did not say, “that I may be freed from my chains,” but, being in chains, he urged others on — and urged them on for a great purpose, that he himself might gain boldness in speaking. Both are great: the standing of the person, and that of the thing. How wonderful! How great the dignity! “The mystery,” he says, “of Christ.” He shows that nothing was dearer to his heart than this: to speak.
“For which I am also in chains, so that I may make it plain, as I ought to speak” (verse 4). He means with great boldness of speech, holding nothing back. His chains make him shine; they do not hide him. With great boldness, he means. Tell me, are you in chains, and do you urge others on? “Yes, my chains give me all the more boldness. But I pray for God’s help, for I have heard the voice of Christ saying, ‘When they hand you over, do not be anxious about how or what you will speak’ (Matthew 10, verse 19).”
And see how he has put it in a figure: “that God may open to us a door for the word.” (See how unassuming he is, how he expresses himself even in his chains.) That is, that God would soften their hearts. Still, he did not say so, but, “that he would give us boldness.” He spoke this way out of humility, and asked to receive what he already had.
In this letter he shows why Christ did not come in those earlier times, when he calls the former things “a shadow, but the body,” he says, “belongs to Christ.” So it was necessary for them to be trained in habits under the shadow. At the same time he also gives the greatest proof of the love he has for them: “So that you may hear,” he says — that is why “I am in chains.”
Paul in Chains
Again he sets his chains before us — those chains I love so much, which stir up my heart and always draw me to long to see Paul bound: in his chains writing, preaching, baptizing, giving people their first instruction in the faith. In his chains he was consulted on behalf of the churches everywhere; in his chains he built up beyond counting. It was then, rather, that he was free. For listen to him saying, “So that most of the brothers and sisters, made confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the word without fear” (Philippians 1, verse 14). And again he makes the same claim about himself, saying, “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (Second Corinthians 12, verse 10).
That is why he also said, “But the word of God is not chained” (Second Timothy 2, verse 9). He was bound with criminals, with prisoners, with murderers. He, the teacher of the world, who had gone up into the third heaven and heard the unspeakable words (Second Corinthians 12, verse 4), was bound. But then his race was all the swifter. The one who was bound was now set free; the one who was not bound was bound. For Paul was doing what he wanted, while the other neither stopped him nor accomplished his own purpose.
What are you doing, you senseless man? Do you think he is a runner of flesh? Does he compete on our racecourse? His race is run in heaven, and things on earth cannot bind or hold one who runs in heaven. Do you not see this sun? Shut up its rays in fetters! Stop it in its course! You cannot. Then neither can you stop Paul. Indeed, much less this one than that, for this one enjoys more of God’s providence than that one does, since he brings us light — not light like that, but the true light.
Where now are those who are unwilling to suffer anything for Christ? But why do I say “suffer,” when they are unwilling even to give up their wealth? In time past Paul too used to bind people and throw them into prison; but since he became Christ’s servant, he no longer boasts of doing, but of suffering. And this too is marvelous about the preaching: that it is raised up and increased in this way by the sufferers themselves, and not by the persecutors. Where has anyone seen such a contest as this? The one who suffers wrong conquers; the one who does wrong is beaten. This man shines brighter than the other.
The preaching came in through chains. “I am not ashamed” (Romans 1, verse 16), he says — no, I even boast in preaching the Crucified One. For consider, please: the whole world left those who were free and went over to those who were bound; turning away from the jailers, it honors those weighed down with chains; hating the crucifiers, it worships the Crucified.
It is not the only marvel that the preachers were fishermen and uneducated. There were other hindrances too, hindrances even in the nature of things, and still the growth was all the more abundant. Not only was their lack of learning no hindrance; it even made the preaching shine out. For listen to Luke saying, “When they perceived that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed” (Acts 4, verse 13). Not only were chains no hindrance; they even made them more confident. The disciples were not as bold when Paul was free as when he was bound. For he says they “are much more bold to speak the word of God without fear” (Philippians 1, verse 14).
Where are those who will deny that the preaching is divine? Was not their lack of learning enough to get them condemned? Would it not, then, have frightened them in this case too? For you know that most people are in the grip of these two passions, empty glory and cowardice. Suppose their lack of learning did not make them feel ashamed; still, the dangers must have made them afraid.
But someone says: “They worked miracles.” So you do believe that they worked miracles! But what if they did not work miracles? This is a greater miracle than working them: that people were drawn to them without miracles. Socrates too, among the Greeks, was put in chains. What then? Did not his disciples flee at once to Megara? Certainly — and why not? They had accepted his arguments about immortality!
But look at this case. Paul was put in chains, and his disciples grew all the more confident — and with reason, for they saw that the preaching was not hindered. For can you put the tongue in chains? It is chiefly by the tongue that the preaching runs. Unless you have bound a runner’s feet, you have not stopped him from running; in the same way, unless you have bound the tongue of an evangelist, you have not stopped him from running. And just as the runner, if you bind his waist, runs all the better and is held up by it, so too the evangelist preaches all the more, and with greater boldness.
A prisoner is afraid when there is nothing beyond the chains; but one who despises death — how could he be bound? They did the same as if they had chained Paul’s shadow and gagged its mouth. It was a fight with shadows. For he was missed more tenderly by his friends and more revered by his enemies, as one who carried off the prize for courage in his chains. A crown too binds the head, but it does not disgrace it; rather, it makes it brilliant. Against their will they crowned him with his chain. For tell me, could he fear iron, who defied the diamond gates of death?
Chains Better Than Gold
Come, beloved, let us strive to match these chains. All of you women who deck yourselves with gold trinkets, long for the chains of Paul. The collar around your necks does not glitter as the grace of those iron chains gleamed around his soul! Anyone who longs for those must hate these. For what fellowship does softness have with courage, or dressing up the body with philosophy? The angels revere those chains; these they even mock. Those chains usually draw people up from earth to heaven; these draw them down from heaven to earth. For in truth these are the chains, not those; those are an ornament, these are chains. These afflict the soul along with the body; those adorn the soul as well as the body.
Would you be convinced that those are an ornament? Tell me, which would have drawn more notice from the onlookers — you, or Paul? And why do I say “you”? The empress herself, all decked in gold, would not have drawn the onlookers so much. If it happened that Paul in his chains and the empress entered the church at the same moment, everyone would have turned their eyes from her to him — and with good reason. For to see a man whose nature is greater than human, with nothing of man about him, an angel on earth, is more wonderful than to see a woman decked in finery. That kind of thing one can see in theaters, in processions, at the baths, and in many places.
But whoever sees a man with chains on him, who counts himself to be wearing the greatest of ornaments and does not give way under his chains, is looking at a sight not of earth but worthy of heaven. The soul dressed in that other way keeps looking around — Who has seen me? Who has not? — and is filled with pride, is gripped by anxious thoughts, and is bound by countless other passions. But the one who wears these chains is free of pride. His soul exults, is freed from every anxious care, is joyful, has its gaze on heaven, is clothed with wings.
If anyone gave me the choice of seeing Paul either leaning down out of heaven and speaking, or speaking out of the prison, I would choose the prison. For those who dwell in heaven come to visit him when he is in the prison. The chains of Paul were the bond that held the preaching together; that chain of his was its foundation. Let us long for those chains!
Someone says: “And how can this be?” If we break these in pieces and smash them. No good comes to us from these chains, only harm. These will show us up as prisoners there; but Paul’s chains will loose those bonds. The woman who is bound with these here will also be bound there with those chains that never die, hands and feet both; the woman who has been bound with Paul’s will have them on that day as an ornament about her.
Free both yourself from your chains and the poor man from his hunger. Why do you rivet fast the chains of your sins? Someone asks: “How?” When you wear gold while another is perishing — when, to win empty glory, you take so much gold for yourself while another does not even have anything to eat — have you not driven your sins fast? Put on Christ, not gold. Where mammon is, Christ is not; where Christ is, mammon is not. Would you not put on the King of all himself? If someone had offered you the purple and the diadem, would you not have taken them ahead of all the gold in the world? I am not giving you the royal ornaments; I am offering you the King himself to put on.
Someone asks: “And how can anyone put on Christ?” Listen to Paul saying, “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Galatians 3, verse 27). Listen to the apostle’s command: “Make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its cravings” (Romans 13, verse 14). This is how one puts on Christ: by not providing for the flesh and its cravings. If you have put on Christ, even the demons will fear you; but if gold, even people will laugh you to scorn. If you have put on Christ, people too will respect you.
Would you look fair and lovely? Be content with the Creator’s workmanship. Why do you lay these bits of gold over it, as though you were going to set God’s creation right? Would you look lovely? Clothe yourself in almsgiving; clothe yourself in goodwill; clothe yourself in modesty and humility. These are all more precious than gold. These make even the beautiful more lovely still; these make even the plain well formed. For when someone looks at a face with goodwill, he judges it from love. But an evil woman, even if she is beautiful, no one can call beautiful, for the mind is thrown into confusion and does not give its verdict rightly.
That Egyptian woman of old was adorned; Joseph too was adorned. Which of them was more beautiful? I do not mean when she was in the palace and he in the prison. He was naked, but clothed in the garments of chastity; she was clothed, but uglier than if she had been naked, for she had no modesty. When you have adorned yourself to excess, woman, you have become uglier than a naked woman, for you have stripped yourself of your fair adornment. Eve too was naked; but when she had clothed herself, then she was uglier. For when she was naked she was adorned with the glory of God; but when she had clothed herself with the garment of sin, then she was ugly. And you too, when you dress yourself in the garment of studied finery, then you look uglier.
To show that costliness does not make anyone look beautiful, but that someone dressed up can look even uglier than if naked, tell me: if you had ever put on the costume of a piper or a flute player, would it not have been a disgrace? And yet those costumes are of gold. But it would be a disgrace for this very reason, because they are of gold. For costliness suits people on the stage — tragic actors, players, mimes, dancers, those who fight wild beasts. But to a woman who is a believer God gives other robes: the only Son of God himself. “For,” he says, “as many as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Galatians 3, verse 27).
Tell me, if someone had given you royal clothing, and you had taken a beggar’s dress and put it on over it, would you not, besides the disgrace, also have been punished for it? You have put on the Lord of heaven and of the angels, and are you still busy about earth?
I have spoken this way because love of ornament is a great evil in itself, even if no other evil came from it and it were possible to keep it without danger — for it stirs one up to empty glory and to pride. But as it is, many other evils come from finery: evil suspicions, untimely expenses, evil talk, occasions for grasping. For why do you adorn yourself? Tell me. Is it to please your husband? Then do it at home. But here the opposite happens. For if you want to please your own husband, do not please others; but if you please others, you will not be able to please your own.
So you should put away all your ornaments when you go to the marketplace or come to church. Besides, do not please your husband by the means prostitutes use, but rather by those that free-born wives use. For tell me, how does a wife differ from a prostitute? In this: the one looks to one thing only, how she may draw to herself the man she loves by the beauty of her body; the other rules the house, and shares in the children, and in everything else.
Do you have a little daughter? Take care that she does not inherit the harm, for daughters usually form their manners by their upbringing and imitate their mothers’ behavior. Be a pattern of modesty to your daughter. Deck yourself with that adornment, and make sure you despise the other; for that one is truly an ornament, the other a disfigurement. Enough has been said.
Now may God, who made the world and has given us the ornament of the soul, adorn us and clothe us with his own glory, so that, all shining brightly in good works and living for his glory, we may send up glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.