Homilies on First Thessalonians
Homily 3 — First Thessalonians 2, verse 9, to 3, verse 4
First Thessalonians 2, verse 9, to 3, verse 4
“For you remember, brothers and sisters, our labor and toil: working night and day so as not to be a burden to any of you, we preached to you the good news of God. You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless we were in our conduct toward you who believe; as you know how we dealt with each one of you, as a father with his own children, exhorting you, and encouraging you, and solemnly charging you, so that you would walk worthily of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.”
A teacher should feel nothing a burden that serves the salvation of his disciples. If the blessed Jacob was battered night and day as he kept his flocks, how much more should the one to whom the care of souls is entrusted endure every toil, however hard and lowly the work, looking to one thing only: the salvation of his disciples, and the glory that comes to God from it. See, then: Paul, a preacher, the apostle of the whole world, raised to such great honor, worked with his hands so as not to be a burden to his disciples.
“For you remember,” he says, “my brothers and sisters, our labor and toil.” He had said earlier, “We could have been a burden, as apostles of Christ,” just as he says in the letter to the Corinthians too: “Do you not know that those who minister about sacred things eat of the things of the temple? In the same way Christ also ordained that those who proclaim the good news should live by the good news” (First Corinthians 9, verses 13 and 14). But I, he says, would not have it so; I labored. And he did not merely work, but worked with great diligence.
Notice, then, what he says: “For you remember.” He has not said, “the benefits you received from me,” but “our labor and toil: working night and day so as not to be a burden to any of you, we preached to you the good news of God.” To the Corinthians he said something different: “I robbed other churches, taking wages from them so that I might serve you” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 8). Yet even there he worked; but he made no mention of it, and pressed the more striking point instead, as if to say, “I was supported by others while I was serving you.” Here it is not so. What, then? “Working night and day.” And there he does say, “And when I was present with you and was in need, I was not a burden to anyone,” and, “I took wages so that I might serve you” (Second Corinthians 11, verses 8 and 9). Here he shows that these people were poor; there it was not so.
That is why he often calls on them as witnesses. “You are witnesses,” he says, “and God also.” God was worthy to be believed, but their own witness was what assured them most fully. For God’s witness was uncertain to those who did not know of it, but theirs was beyond doubt to everyone. So you are not to ask whether it is Paul who says these things. He gives them far more assurance than was needed. That is why he says, “You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless we were in our conduct toward you who believe.” It was right to praise them again, and so he sets these things before them, which were enough to persuade them. For a man who stood there in want and took nothing then would much more take nothing now.
“How holy,” he says, “and righteous and blameless we were in our conduct toward you who believe.”
“As you know how we exhorted and comforted each one of you, as a father does his own children.” Having spoken earlier of how he conducted himself, here he speaks of his love, which went beyond what belonged to his authority over them. And what he says shows how free he was of pride. “As a father his own children, exhorting you, and encouraging you, and solemnly charging you, so that you would walk worthily of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.” When he says “and solemnly charging,” that is when he mentions fathers: though we charged you solemnly, it was not harshly, but as fathers do.
“Each one of you.” Astonishing! In so great a crowd to leave out no one, neither small nor great, neither rich nor poor. “Exhorting” you, he says — to endure. “And comforting, and solemnly charging.” “Exhorting”: so they were not seeking glory. “Solemnly charging”: so they were not flattering. “So that you would walk worthily of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.” Notice again how, while he tells the story, he both teaches and comforts. For if God has called them into his kingdom, if he has called them into glory, they ought to endure everything. We “entreat” you, not so that you will do us some favor, but so that you will gain the kingdom of heaven.
Verse 13: “And for this reason we also thank God without ceasing, that when you received from us the word of the message, the word of God, you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it truly is, the word of God, which is also at work in you who believe.”
No one can say, he means, that we did everything blamelessly while you, for your part, did things unworthy of the way we lived. For when you heard us, you paid attention as though you were not hearing men, but God himself exhorting you. How is this clear? He has shown from his own trials, from their testimony, and from the way he acted, that he did not preach out of flattery or empty glory; in the same way he shows from their trials that they received the word rightly. For how, he says, could you have endured such dangers unless you had heard it as though God were speaking? And notice his dignity.
Verses 14, 15 and 16: “For you, brothers and sisters, became imitators of the churches of God which are in Judea in Christ Jesus; for you also suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews, who both killed the Lord Jesus and their own prophets, and drove us out, and do not please God, and are opposed to all people, forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles so that they may be saved, so as always to fill up their sins. But the wrath has come upon them to the utmost.”
“For you,” he says, “became imitators of the churches of God which are in Judea.” This is a great consolation. It is no wonder, he means, that they should do these things to you, since they have done them to their own countrymen too. And this too is no small proof that the message preached is true: that even Jews were able to endure everything. “For you also,” he says, “suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews.” There is something more in his saying “as they also did in Judea”: it shows that everywhere they rejoiced, as men who had fought nobly. So he says, “you also suffered the same things.” And again, what wonder is it if they dared to do such things to you, when they dared to do them even to the Lord?
Do you see how he brings this in as something full of consolation? He comes back to it constantly; and anyone who looks closely will find it in nearly all his letters — how, in many different ways, whenever trials come, he brings Christ forward. Notice, then, that here too, while accusing the Jews, he reminds them of the Lord and of the Lord’s sufferings. So well does he know that this is the greatest consolation of all.
“Who both killed the Lord,” he says. But perhaps they did not know him? They certainly did know him. What then? Did they not kill and stone their own prophets, whose books they even carry around with them? And it was not for the sake of truth that they did this. So there is not only consolation here in their trials; they are also reminded not to think that the Jews did it for truth’s sake, and be troubled on that account.
“And drove us out,” he says. We too, he means, have suffered countless evils. “And do not please God, and are opposed to all people, forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles so that they may be saved.” “Opposed to all people,” he says. How? Because if we ought to speak to the world and they forbid us, they are the common enemies of the world. They have killed Christ and the prophets; they insult God; they are the common enemies of the world; they banish us when we come for their salvation. What wonder is it if they have done such things to you too, when they have done them even in Judea? “Forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles so that they may be saved.” So to hinder the salvation of all is the mark of envy.
“So as always to fill up their sins. But the wrath has come upon them to the utmost.” What does “to the utmost” mean? These things are no longer like the former ones. Here there is no turning back, no end to it; the wrath is close at hand. How is this clear? From what Christ foretold. For it is a consolation not only to have others share our afflictions, but also to hear that our persecutors will be punished. And if the delay troubles you, let it console you that they will never lift up their heads again. Or rather, he has cut the delay short by saying “the wrath,” showing that it was long since due, settled in advance, and foretold.
Verse 17: “But we, being taken from you for a short time, in presence, not in heart, made all the more eager efforts to see your face with great desire.”
He has not said “separated,” but something much stronger. Earlier he had spoken of flattery, showing that he did not flatter and did not seek glory; here he speaks of love. Since he had said above, “as a father his children” and “as a nurse,” here he uses another expression, “being made orphans,” which is said of children who have lost their fathers. And yet it was they who were left orphans. But he says: “No, it is we. For if anyone should examine our longing: just as little children left without a protector, bereaved before their time, long for their parents, not only from the feeling of nature itself but also because they are left alone, so truly do we feel too.”
By this he also shows his dejection at being separated from them. And we cannot say, he means, that we have waited a long time; it was only “for a short time,” and that “in presence, not in heart.” For we always have you in our mind. See how great his love is! Though he had them always in his heart, he still sought to see them face to face. Do not tell me of your lofty philosophy. This is truly fervent love: to see, and to hear, and to speak; and this may bring great benefit. “We made all the more eager efforts.” What does “all the more” mean? He means either “we are intensely attached to you,” or “as was natural, bereaved as we were for a while, we tried to see your face.”
Look at the blessed Paul. When he cannot satisfy his longing himself, he does it through others: he sends Timothy to the Philippians, and the same man again to the Corinthians, keeping company with them through others when he cannot do it himself. For in his love for them he was like a man beside himself, who could not be held back or master himself in his affection.
Verse 18: “That is why we wanted to come to you.”
This is what love does. Yet here he mentions no other need than “that we might see you.” “I Paul, once and again, and Satan hindered us.” What are you saying? Does Satan hinder? Yes, indeed, for this was not the work of God. In the letter to the Romans he says that God hindered him (Romans 15, verse 22); and elsewhere Luke says that “the Spirit” prevented them from going into Asia (Acts 16, verse 7). And in the letter to the Corinthians he says it is the work of the Spirit; but here, only of Satan.
But what hindrance from Satan does he mean? Some sudden and violent trials. For, it says, when a plot was formed against him by the Jews, he stayed three months in Greece. But it is another thing to stay on for the sake of God’s arrangement, and willingly. There he says, “But now, having no more room in these regions” (Romans 15, verse 23), and, “It was to spare you that I refrained from coming to Corinth” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 23). Here there is nothing of the kind. What, then? “Satan hindered” him. “Even I Paul,” he says, “both once and again.” Notice his love of show, and what a display he makes in his eagerness to prove that he loved them most of all. “I Paul,” he says, as if to say, “I, if no one else.” For the others, he means, only wanted to come; but I actually tried.
Verse 19: “For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of boasting? Is it not you also, before our Lord Jesus at his coming?”
Tell me, blessed Paul, are the Macedonians your hope? Not they alone, he says. That is why he has added, “Is it not you also?” “For what,” he says, “is our hope, or joy, or crown of boasting?” Notice the words: they are the words of women burning with tenderness, talking to their little children. “And crown of boasting,” he says. The word “crown” was not enough to express the splendor; he adds “of boasting” as well. What fiery warmth this is! No mother or father, not even if the two came together and mingled their love into one, could ever have shown an affection equal to Paul’s.
“My joy and crown,” he says; that is, I rejoice in you more than in a crown. Think what a great thing it is that a whole church should stand there, planted and rooted by Paul! Who would not rejoice in such a multitude of children, and in the goodness of those children? So this too is not flattery. For he has not said “you,” but “you also,” together with the others.
Verse 20: “For you are our glory and our joy.”
Chapter 3, verses 1 and 2: “So when we could bear it no longer, we thought it good to be left behind at Athens alone.” He says this instead of “we chose.”
“And sent Timothy, our brother and God’s servant and our fellow worker in the good news of Christ.”
He says this not to praise Timothy, but to honor them, since he sent them his fellow worker, the servant of the good news. It is as if he had said, “We took him away from his labors and have sent to you the servant of God, our fellow laborer in the good news of Christ.”
“To strengthen you, and to comfort you concerning your faith.”
Verse 3: “So that no one would be shaken by these afflictions.”
What, then, is he saying here? The trials of teachers trouble their disciples, and he had at that time fallen into many trials, as he himself says: “Satan hindered us.” He keeps saying this: “Both once and again,” he says, “I would have come to you,” and he could not — which was proof of great violence. And it was natural that this should trouble them; for disciples are not so troubled at their own trials as at those of their teachers, just as a soldier is not so troubled at his own hardships as when he sees his general wounded. “To strengthen you,” he says — not that they were at all lacking in faith, or needed to learn anything.
“And to comfort you concerning your faith, so that no one would be shaken by these afflictions; for you yourselves know that we are appointed for this.”
Verse 4: “For indeed, when we were with you, we told you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction, just as it came to pass, and you know.” You ought not to be troubled, he means, for nothing strange, nothing unexpected is happening; and this was enough to lift them up. Do you see that this is why Christ too told his disciples beforehand? Listen to him saying, “Now I have told you before it comes to pass, so that when it does come to pass you may believe” (John 14, verse 29). For it goes a long way — a very long way — toward comforting people to have heard from their teachers what is going to happen.
When a sick man hears from his physician that this or that is going to happen, he is not greatly troubled; but if something happens unexpectedly, he is distressed and troubled, as though the physician too were at a loss and the illness beyond his skill. So it is here too. Paul knew this beforehand and told them in advance, “We are going to suffer affliction,” “as it came to pass, and you know.” He is not saying only that this came to pass, but that he foretold many things and they happened. “We are appointed for this.” So you ought not to be troubled and shaken, not only about what is past, but not even about the future, if any such thing should happen; “for we are appointed for this.”
Appointed for This
Let those of us who have ears to hear, listen. The Christian is appointed for this. For this was said of all the faithful: “We are appointed for this.” And we, as though we were appointed for ease, think it strange if we suffer anything. Yet what reason do we have to think anything strange? No season of affliction or trial has overtaken us except what is common to human beings. It would be a fitting time to say to you, “You have not yet resisted to the point of blood in your struggle against sin” (Hebrews 12, verse 4). Or rather, that is not a fitting thing for us to say to you. What, then? You have not yet despised riches. Those words were rightly said to them, when they had lost all their possessions; but this is said to people who keep theirs.
Who has been robbed of his riches for Christ’s sake? Who has been beaten? Who has been insulted — even with words, I mean? What have you to boast of? What gives you the confidence to say anything? Christ suffered so much for us while we were enemies. What can we show that we have suffered for him? Nothing we have suffered — only countless good things we have received from him. Where will we find confidence on that Day? Don’t you know that a soldier too, when he can show countless wounds and scars, will then be able to shine in the king’s presence? But if he has no good deed to show, even though he may have done no harm, he will be ranked among the lowest.
But, you say: “It is not a time of war.” But if it were, tell me, who would fight? Who would charge? Who would break through the enemy phalanx? Perhaps no one. For when I see that you do not despise riches for Christ’s sake, how am I to believe that you would despise blows? Tell me, do you bear bravely with those who insult you, and do you bless them? You do not; you disobey. You do not do what carries no danger; and will you endure blows, which bring much pain and suffering?
Don’t you know that in peacetime one should keep up the exercises of war? Don’t you see these soldiers? No war troubles them; there is deep peace; yet they polish their weapons and go out with the instructors who teach them tactics into the broad, level plains — every day, I might say — and keep up the exercises of war with the greatest strictness. Which of our spiritual soldiers has done this? Not one. That is why in war we turn out weak and cowardly, easily taken captive by anyone.
The Whole of Life Is War
But what foolishness this is — not to think the present a time of war, when Paul cries out, “Indeed, all who want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (Second Timothy 3, verse 12); and Christ says, “In the world you will have distress” (John 16, verse 33). And again the blessed Paul cries out with a loud voice, “Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood,” and again, “Stand, then, having belted your waist with truth” (Ephesians 6, verses 12 and 14). “Tell me, why are you arming us when it is not war? Why are you giving us trouble for nothing? You are putting breastplates on the soldiers when they are free to rest and recover.” But he would have said: “Very well; but even if it were not war, it would still be right to attend to the business of war. For whoever thinks about battle in peacetime will be formidable when the time of battle comes; but whoever has no experience of war will be more troubled even in peace. Why? Because he will weep over what he owns, and, unable to fight for it, he will be in anguish. For the possessions of the cowardly, the inexperienced and the unwarlike belong to everyone who is brave and warlike. So that is the first reason I arm you. But then, too, the whole time of our life is a time of war.”
How, and in what way? The devil is always at hand. Listen to what Scripture says: “Like a roaring lion he walks about, seeking someone to devour” (First Peter 5, verse 8). Countless passions of the body assail us, and we must list them, so that we do not deceive ourselves for nothing. For tell me, what does not war against us? Riches, beauty, pleasure, power, authority, envy, glory, pride? Not only does our own glory war against us, forbidding us to stoop to humility; the glory of others does too, leading us into envy and spite. And what of their opposites — poverty, dishonor, being despised, being rejected, having no power? These, then, are within us.
But from people come wickedness, plots, deceits, slanders, and attacks without number. And in the same way from the demons: “rulers, authorities, the world rulers of this darkness, the spiritual forces of wickedness.” Some of us are rejoicing, others grieving; both are ways of straying from the right course. Health and sickness war against us too. From what direction can a person not fall into sin?
Would you like me to tell you from the beginning, starting right from Adam? What took the first-formed man captive? Pleasure, and eating, and the love of power. What took the son who came after him? Ill will and envy. What took those in the time of Noah? The pleasures of the flesh, and the evils that came from them. What took his son? Insolence and disrespect. What took the people of Sodom? Insolence, loose living, and fullness of bread. But often poverty too has this effect. That is why a certain wise man said, “Give me neither poverty nor riches” (Proverbs 30, verse 8). Yet it is neither poverty nor riches that does it, but a will that does not know how to use either of them. “Know,” he says, “that you are walking through the midst of snares” (Sirach 9, verse 13).
The blessed Paul put it admirably: “We are appointed for this.” He did not simply say that we meet with trials, but that “we are appointed for this,” as if he were saying, “This is what we were born for.” This is our business, this is our life — and are you looking for rest? No executioner stands over us, tearing our sides and forcing us to sacrifice. But the desire for riches, the desire to have more, presses hard on us and gouges out our eyes. No soldier has lit a pyre under us or laid us on a roasting grate; but something worse than that: the flames of the flesh set our souls on fire. No king stands here promising countless gifts and shaking our resolve; but a raging passion for glory is here, and it tickles us worse than he could. A great war it truly is, an exceedingly great one, if only we would keep watch.
The present time has its crowns too. Listen to Paul: “From now on there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the righteous Judge will give me — and not only to me, but also to all who have loved his appearing” (Second Timothy 4, verse 8). Have you lost a beloved only son, whom you were raising in great wealth, a boy full of promise, the only one who would inherit what you have? Do not complain. Give thanks to God, and glorify him who has taken him, and in this you will be no less than Abraham. For as Abraham gave his son to God when God commanded it, so you have not complained when God has taken yours.
Have you fallen into a serious illness, and do many people come pressing you to cure the trouble, some with charms, some with amulets, others with other things? And have you borne it firmly and without flinching, out of the fear of God, and would you rather suffer anything at all than bring yourself to do any of those idolatrous practices? That brings you the crown of martyrdom. Do not doubt it. How, and in what way? I will tell you. Just as the martyr bears the pains of torture firmly rather than worship the image, so you bear the sufferings of your disease rather than take anything from the remedies the other man offers, or do what he prescribes. “But those pains are more violent.” Yes, but these last longer, so in the end it comes to the same thing. In fact, these are often more violent too. For tell me: when a fever is raging and burning inside you, and you refuse the charm that others recommend to you, have you not had the crown of martyrdom bound on your head?
Again, has someone lost money? Many advise you to turn to diviners. But you, out of the fear of God, because it is forbidden, choose rather not to get your money back than to disobey God. Then you have a reward equal to the man who has given his money to the poor — if, having lost it, you give thanks, and though you could have gone to the diviners, you would rather not get it back than get it back that way. For as he, out of the fear of God, gave everything to the needy, so you too, out of the fear of God, did not recover what was plundered from you.
Whether we are harmed or not is in our own hands. If you like, let us make the whole matter plain in the case of theft itself. A thief has dug through the wall and burst into your inner room. He has carried off costly gold vessels and precious stones — in short, he has cleaned out your whole treasure, and he has not been caught. What has happened is painful, and it looks like a loss. Yet it is not a loss yet: it depends on you whether it becomes a loss or a gain. “And how can this be a gain?” I will try to show you how. If you are willing, it will be a great gain; but if you are unwilling, the loss will be heavier than the one that has already happened. Think of craftsmen. When material is set before them, the one who is skilled in his craft puts it to good use, while the unskilled one spoils it and turns it into a loss for himself. So it is in these matters too. How, then, will it be a gain? If you give thanks to God, if you do not wail bitterly, if you speak the words of Job: “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Naked I came out of my mother’s womb, naked I will also go away” (Job 1, verse 21, in the Greek Old Testament).
“What? ‘The Lord has taken away’? The thief took it! How can you say, ‘The Lord has taken away’?” Do not be surprised. Even Job said of the things the devil took, “The Lord has taken these away.” And will you not say of what the thief took, “The Lord has taken it away”? Tell me, whom do you admire more: the man who has given all his goods to the poor, or Job, for these words? Is Job, who did not give anything at that time, less than the man who gave alms? So do not say: “I feel no thankfulness. It was not done with my consent, or my knowledge, or my will. The robber took it. What reward will I get?” Neither did these things happen with Job’s knowledge or will. How could they have?
Still, he wrestled.
And it is in your power to receive as great a reward as if you had thrown your wealth away willingly. Perhaps we even admire the man who suffers wrong with thanksgiving more than the one who gives of his own accord. Why? Because the giver is fed by praise, upheld by his conscience, and has good hopes; and he first steeled himself to do without his goods, and only then threw them away. But the other was still attached to them when he was stripped of them by force. It is not the same thing to be persuaded first to part with riches and then give them away, as to be robbed of them while you still long for them.
If you say these words, you will receive many times as much, more even than Job. For he received twice as much here, but to you Christ has promised a hundredfold. Out of the fear of God you did not blaspheme? You did not turn to diviners? When you were wronged, you gave thanks? Then you are like one who despises wealth, for you could not have done this unless you had first despised it. And it is not the same thing to practice contempt for riches over a long time as to bear, all at once, a loss that has just happened. So the loss becomes a gain, and you will not be harmed by the devil, but actually helped.
But how does the loss become a heavy one? When you lose your soul! Tell me: the thief has robbed you of your possessions; will you rob yourself of salvation? Why, when you grieve over the evils you have suffered from others, do you plunge yourself into worse ones? He has perhaps brought you into poverty; but you perversely injure yourself in things that are fatal. He has taken from you things outside you, things that would one day have slipped away from you even against your will; but you are depriving yourself of eternal riches. The devil has grieved you by taking away your wealth. Grieve him in return, and do not give him pleasure. If you turn to diviners, you delight him. If you give thanks to God, you deal him a mortal blow.
And see what happens. If you go to the diviners, you will not find it anyway, for it is not in their power to know. And even if by some chance they do tell you, you lose your own soul besides, your brothers and sisters will laugh at you, and you will lose it again, miserably. For the demon knows that you cannot bear your loss, and that for the sake of these things you will even deny your God; so he gives you wealth again, to have another chance to deceive you and make you fall away. And if the diviners do tell you, do not be surprised. The demon has no body; he goes about everywhere. It is he who arms the robbers themselves, for these things do not happen without the demon. If, then, he arms them, he also knows where the goods have been put away. He is not ignorant of his own servants.
This is nothing to wonder at. If he sees you grieving over the loss, he adds another one to it. If he sees you laughing at it and despising it, he gives up this line of attack. For we deal our enemies the blows that will grieve them, but once we see that they are not grieved, we stop, since we cannot torment them. So does the devil too.
What do you say? Do you not see the people who sail the sea — how, when a storm comes up, they pay no attention to their wealth, but even throw their goods overboard? “My friend, what are you saying? Are you working together with the storm and the shipwreck? Before the wave has taken your wealth, are you doing it yourself, with your own hands? Why do you wreck yourself before the shipwreck?” A countryman with no experience of the dangers of the sea might say this. But a seaman, one who really knows what brings a calm and what brings a storm, would laugh at the man who talks like that. “I throw it overboard,” he says, “so that the sea will not swamp us.”
So too the one who is experienced in the events and trials of life: when he sees the storm coming, and the spirits of evil wanting to cause a shipwreck, he throws overboard even what is left of his wealth. Have you been plundered? Give alms, and you lighten the ship. Have robbers stripped you bare? Give what remains to Christ. In this way you will find comfort for the poverty your loss has left you in. Lighten the ship; do not hold on to what remains, or the vessel will fill with water. Sailors throw their goods overboard to save their bodies, and do not wait for the wave to strike and overturn the ship. And will you not stop the shipwreck, so that you may save souls?
Try it, I beg you. If you do not believe me, try it, and you will see the glory of God. When something painful has happened, give alms at once. Give thanks that it has happened, and you will see how much joy comes over you. For spiritual gain, however small, is so great that it throws every bodily loss into the shade. As long as you have something to give to Christ, you are rich. Tell me: if, when you had been robbed, the king came to you and held out his hand, begging to receive something from you, would you not think yourself richer than anyone, since the king was not ashamed of you even in such poverty? Do not let your wealth carry you away. Only overcome yourself, and you will overcome the devil’s attack. It is in your power to make a great gain.
Let us despise wealth, so that we do not despise the soul. But how can anyone despise it? Look at beautiful bodies and those who love them. As long as the beautiful are before their eyes, the fire is lit and the flame burns bright; but when someone takes them far away, everything goes out, everything falls asleep. So it is with wealth too. Let no one lay up gold, or precious stones, or necklaces; when they are seen, they trap the eyes. If you want to be rich like the people of old, be rich not in gold but in the necessities of life, so that you can give to others from what you have on hand. Do not be fond of finery. Wealth of that kind is easy prey for robbers, and it brings us worries. Let there be no vessels of gold and silver, but stores of bread and wine and oil — not to be sold again for money, but to be given to those in need. If we withdraw from these luxuries, we will obtain the goods of heaven. May God grant that we all obtain them, in Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, forever and ever. Amen.