Homily 11 — First Thessalonians 5, verses 19 to 28

“Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies. But test all things; hold fast to what is good. Keep away from every form of evil.” [a]

A thick mist, a darkness and a cloud, is spread over the whole earth. The apostle showed this when he said, “For we were once darkness” (Ephesians 5, verse 8). And again: “But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you like a thief.” So since there is, so to speak, a moonless night, and we walk in that night, God has given us a bright lamp: he has lit the grace of the Holy Spirit in our souls.

But some who have received this light have made it brighter and more shining, as Paul did, for instance, and Peter, and all those holy men; while others have even put it out, like the five virgins, like those who have “made shipwreck of the faith,” like the sexually immoral man at Corinth, like the Galatians who were led astray. That is why Paul says, “Do not quench the Spirit,” meaning the gift of grace, for it is his habit to call the gift of the Spirit by that name.

But an impure life puts it out. Anyone who sprinkles water and dust on the flame of our lamp puts it out; and so does anyone who does none of that, but only takes out the oil. It is the same with the gift of grace. If you have thrown earthly things over it, and the cares of things that shift and change, you have quenched the Spirit. And even if you have done none of these things, but a trial coming from some other quarter has struck it violently, like a wind, then if the light is not strong, and it does not have much oil, or you have not closed the opening, or have not shut the door, all is lost.

But what is the opening? It is with us as it is with the lamp: the opening is the eye and the ear. Do not let a violent blast of wickedness fall on these, for it would put out the lamp; close them up with the fear of God. The mouth is the door. Shut it and fasten it, so that it may both give light and drive back the attack from outside. For instance, has someone insulted and abused you? Shut your mouth; if you open it, you add force to the wind. Have you not noticed in houses, when two doors stand directly opposite each other and a strong wind is blowing, that if you shut one, so that there is no draft from the other side, the wind has no power, and most of its force dies down? So it is here too. There are two doors: your mouth, and the mouth of the one who insults and affronts you. If you shut your mouth and do not allow a draft from the other side, you have stilled the whole blast; but if you open it, it cannot be held back. So let us not quench it.

And the flame is often in danger of going out even when no trial strikes it. When the oil runs out, when we do not give alms, the Spirit is quenched. For it came to you as alms from God. Then, when he sees that this fruit is not in you, he does not remain with an unmerciful soul. And once the Spirit has been quenched, you know what follows, as many of you as have walked along a road on a moonless night. If it is hard to walk at night on a road from one land to another, how can it be safe on the road that leads from earth to heaven? Do you not know how many demons there are in the space between, how many wild beasts, how many wicked spirits? If we have that light, they will be able to do us no harm; but if we put it out, they quickly take us captive, they quickly rob us of everything. Even robbers put out the lamp first, and then plunder us. For they can see in this darkness, since they do the works of darkness; but we are not used to that kind of light.

So let us not put it out. Every kind of evildoing puts out that light: abuse, insolence, or whatever you can name. It is as it is with fire. Everything foreign to its nature destroys it, and what is akin to it feeds it. Whatever is dry, whatever is warm, whatever is fiery, kindles the flame of the Spirit. So let us not smother it with anything cold or damp, for these things destroy it.

But there is also another explanation. There were many among them who prophesied truly, but some prophesied falsely. He says this in the letter to the Corinthians too: that this was why God gave “the ability to distinguish between spirits” (First Corinthians 12, verse 10). For the devil, in his vile cunning, wanted to use this gift of grace to overturn everything that belonged to the church. Both the demon and the Spirit foretold the future, the one speaking falsehood and the other truth, and there was no way to get proof of either one; each spoke without being called to account, as Jeremiah and Ezekiel had done, and only when the time came were they proved false. So God also gave “the ability to distinguish between spirits.” [d]

Now among the Thessalonians too, at that time, many were prophesying. It is these he has in view when he says, “Not by word or by letter as if from us, as though the day of the Lord were already here” (Second Thessalonians 2, verse 2). So he says this here. That is: do not, just because there are false prophets among you, forbid the true ones too on their account and turn away from them. Do not “quench” them; that is, “do not despise prophecies.”

Do you see that this is what he means by “Test all things”? He had said, “Do not despise prophecies”; so that they would not think he was throwing the pulpit open to everyone, he says, “Test all things,” that is, test which ones really are prophecies, “and hold fast to what is good. Keep away from every form of evil”: not from this form or that, but from all of it. So by testing you may tell the true from the false, keep away from the false, and hold fast to the true. For this is how our hatred of the one becomes strong and our love of the other grows: when we do everything not carelessly or without examination, but after careful investigation.

Verse 23: “May the God of peace himself make you entirely holy; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept whole, blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

See the affection of the teacher. After the warning he adds a prayer; and not only that, he even puts it into his letter. For we need both counsel and prayer. That is why we too first give you counsel and then offer prayers for you; the initiated know this. But Paul did this with good reason, since he had great confidence before God; we, on the other hand, are covered with shame and have no freedom to speak before him. Still, because we were appointed to this, we do it, though we are not worthy even to stand in his presence, or to hold the place of the lowest of the disciples. But because grace works even through the unworthy, not for our own sakes but for the sake of those who are to be helped, we do our part.

“Make you entirely holy,” he says, and may “your spirit and soul and body be kept whole, blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” What does he call the spirit here? The gift of grace. For if we leave this world with our lamps bright, we will enter the bridal chamber; but if they have gone out, it will not be so. That is why he says “your spirit.” For if that stays pure, the rest stays pure too. “And soul and body,” he says; for then neither the one nor the other lets in anything evil. [e]

Verse 24: “The one who calls you is faithful, and he will also do it.” See his humility. Because he had prayed, he says: “Do not think that this comes about through my prayers. It comes through the purpose with which he called you.” For if he called you to salvation, and he is true, he will certainly save you, since he wills it.

Verse 25: “Brothers and sisters, pray for us too.”

Amazing! What humility this is! But he said this out of humility; we say, “Pray for us too,” not out of humility, but because of the great benefit, wanting to gain some great profit from you. Even if you receive no great or remarkable benefit from us, do it all the same, for the sake of the honor, and of the title itself. Suppose a man has had children. Even if they have gained nothing from him, still, because he has been their father, he may well put this to them and say: “Was I not called father by you, if only for one day?” That is why we too say, “Pray for us too.” I am not saying this as a mere phrase; I really want your prayers. If I have been made responsible for presiding over you all, and must give an account, all the more should I have the help of your prayers. My responsibilities are greater because of you; so the help from you should be greater too.

Verse 26: “Greet all the brothers and sisters with a holy kiss.” [f]

Oh, what warmth! Oh, what a mad passion this is! Because he was absent and could not greet them with the kiss himself, he greets them through others, just as we say, “Kiss him for me.” So you too, keep the fire of love burning. For love takes no account of distances; even across long roads it reaches out, and is present everywhere.

Verse 27: “I solemnly charge you by the Lord that this letter be read to all the holy brothers and sisters.”

This command too comes from love rather than by way of teaching. He means that in this way he may be talking with them as well.

Verse 28: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen.” He does not merely command; he solemnly charges them, and he does it out of a burning heart, so that even if they should despise him, they would still do what he commands for the sake of the solemn charge. People used to have a great dread of that kind of appeal; but now even that is trampled underfoot. Often, when a slave is being flogged and begs by God and his Christ, saying, “As you hope to die a Christian!” no one pays attention, no one cares. But if he begs his master by the master’s own son, at once, unwilling as he is and grinding his teeth, the master gives up his anger. Again, another man is dragged and led off through the middle of the marketplace, in the sight of both Jews and Greeks, and he appeals to the man leading him away with the most fearful solemn appeals, and no one cares. What will the Greeks not say, when one of the faithful appeals to a faithful man, a Christian, and no attention is paid to it, but we even despise him?

Will you let me tell you a story I heard myself? I am not making it up; I heard it from someone who deserves to be believed. There was a slave girl married to a wicked man, a worthless runaway slave. Her husband had committed many offenses and was about to be sold by her mistress. The offenses were too great to be pardoned; and the mistress was a widow, and could not punish the man who was the plague of her household, so she decided to sell him. Then, thinking that it was an unholy thing to separate a husband from his wife, the mistress made up her mind to sell the girl along with him, so as not to part her from him, even though the girl was useful to her.

The girl, seeing herself in this plight, went to a respected woman who was a close friend of her mistress, the same woman who told the story to me. She clasped her knees, and with a thousand laments begged her to plead with her mistress on her behalf. After spending many words, she finally added this as well, as the thing most likely to persuade her, laying on her a most solemn appeal. The appeal was this: “As surely as you hope to see Christ on the Day of Judgment, do not neglect my request!” And with that she went away.

The woman she had begged forgot the matter when some worldly care intruded, the kind that comes up in households. Then suddenly, late in the afternoon, that most solemn appeal came back into her mind. Her heart was deeply pierced; she went and asked with great earnestness, and obtained the request. And that very night she suddenly saw the heavens opened, and Christ himself. But she saw him only as far as it was possible for a woman to see him. Because she paid any heed at all to the appeal, because she was afraid, she was counted worthy of this vision.

I have said these things so that we will not despise solemn appeals, especially when people beg us for good things, such as alms and works of mercy. But now poor men who have lost their feet sit and watch you hurrying past; and since they cannot follow you on their feet, they hope to hold you back, as if with a kind of hook, by the fear of a solemn appeal. They stretch out their hands and solemnly beg you to give them just one or two pennies. And you hurry past, though you are begged in the name of your Lord. But if the beggar appeals to you by the eyes of your husband who has gone abroad, or of your son, or your daughter, you give in at once; your heart is carried away, you warm to him. But if he appeals to you by your Lord, you hurry past. I have known many women who hurried past when they heard the name of Christ; yet when those who came up to them praised their beauty, they melted and softened and held out their hand. [h]

This is what they have reduced suffering, wretched beggars to: even to trading in jokes! Since they cannot touch these women’s hearts by uttering passionate and bitter words, they turn to this, which delights them enormously. Our great wickedness forces the man in misfortune, or pinched by hunger, to sing the praises of the beauty of those who take pity on him. And I wish that were all. But there is another form, worse than this. It forces the poor to be conjurers and clowns and filthy jesters. A man fastens cups and bowls and jugs on his fingers and plays on them like cymbals; he takes a pipe and whistles those shameful love songs on it, and sings them at the top of his voice; then many stand around him, and some give him a piece of bread, some a penny, and others something else, and they keep him there a long time, and men and women alike are delighted. What is sadder than this? Do these things not deserve many groans? They are trifles, and are considered trifles, but they breed great sins in our character. For when an obscene and sweet melody is sung, it softens the mind and corrupts the very soul. And the poor man who calls on God, and calls down a thousand blessings on us, does not get a single word from you; but the one who brings in jokes and antics instead is admired.

Let me tell you what has just come into my mind. What is it? When you are caught in poverty and sickness, learn to give thanks to the Lord: if from no one else, then at least from those who beg, who wander through the narrow lanes. They spend their whole lives begging, yet they do not blaspheme, they are not angry or impatient; they turn the whole story of their begging into thanksgiving, praising God and calling him merciful. The man dying of hunger calls him merciful; but you, who live in plenty, call him cruel if you cannot get everyone’s possessions. How much better he is! How he will condemn us! God has sent the poor throughout the world as teachers for all of us in our misfortunes, and as a comfort in them.

Have you suffered something you did not want? Still, nothing like what that poor man suffers. You have lost an eye; he has lost both. You have been ill for a long time; his disease cannot be cured. You have lost your children; he has lost even the health of his own body. You have suffered a great loss; but you are not yet reduced to begging from others. Give thanks to God. You see them in the furnace of poverty, begging from everyone but receiving from few. When you are weary of praying and do not receive, think how often you have heard a poor man calling on you and have not listened to him; and he did not get angry or insult you. And yet you act this way out of cruelty, while God declines to hear out of mercy. So if you, who out of cruelty do not hear your fellow servant, expect not to be blamed, do you blame the Lord, who out of mercy does not hear his servant? Do you see how great the inequality is, how great the injustice?

So let us think constantly about these things, about those below us, those under greater misfortunes, and in this way we will be able to be thankful to God. Life is full of such examples. And whoever is sober and willing to pay attention gains no small instruction from the houses of prayer. This is why the poor sit at the entrance both of the churches and of the chapels of the martyrs: so that we may gain great benefit from the sight of them. Think: when we go into earthly palaces, we see nothing of this kind; everywhere men of rank and fame, wealthy and cultivated, hurry back and forth. But into the real palaces, I mean the church and the chapels of the martyrs, come the demon-possessed, the maimed, the poor, the aged, the blind, and those whose limbs are twisted. And why? So that you may be taught by the sight of them. [i]

In the first place, if you have come in dragging some pride after you from outside, you may look at them, lay aside your arrogance, and become crushed in heart, and so go in and hear what is said; for a man who prays with an arrogant mind cannot be heard. When you see an old man, you may not be puffed up about your youth, for these old men were once young. When you boast highly of your military service or your royal power, you may consider that people like these are the stock from which those who have become famous in the courts of kings have sprung. When you are confident in your bodily health, you may look at them and bring down your lofty spirit. For the healthy man who keeps coming in here will not be proud of his bodily health, and the sick man will receive no small comfort.

But they do not sit here for this reason only. They are here also to make you compassionate, and to incline you to pity; so that you may wonder at God’s love for humankind, for if God is not ashamed of them, but has set them at his entrances, much less should you be ashamed; and so that you may not be proud because of palaces on earth. Do not be ashamed when a poor man calls on you; and if he comes up to you, if he catches hold of your knees, do not shake him off. These are the fine dogs of the royal courts. I do not call them dogs to dishonor them, far from it, but in high praise. They guard the King’s court. So feed them, for the honor passes on to the King. There, I mean in the palaces on earth, all is pride; here all is humility. You learn from the very entrances, above all, that human beings are nothing. From the very people who sit before them you are taught that God takes no pleasure in riches. Their sitting and gathering there is all but a warning: it sends out a clear voice about the nature of all people, saying that human things are nothing, that they are shadow and smoke. If riches were a good, God would not have seated the poor at his own entrance. [j]

And if he lets rich people in too, do not be surprised. He does not let them in so that they may stay rich, but so that they may be freed from their burden. Listen to what Christ says to them: “You cannot serve God and mammon” (Matthew 6, verse 24); and again, “It is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven”; and again, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19, verses 23 and 24). This is why he receives the rich: so that they may hear these words, long for the eternal riches, and set their desire on the things in heaven.

And why are you surprised that he does not disdain to seat such people at his entrances? He does not disdain to call them to his spiritual table and make them sharers in that feast. The maimed and the lame, the old man clothed in rags and filth, his nose running, comes to share that table with the young and the beautiful, and even with the man clothed in purple, whose head is circled with a diadem. He is counted worthy of the spiritual feast; both enjoy the same benefits, and there is no difference.

So Christ does not disdain to call them to his table together with the emperor, for both are called together; and you, perhaps, disdain even to be seen giving to the poor, or even talking with them? Shame on your haughtiness and pride! Take care that we do not suffer what the rich man suffered long ago. He disdained even to look at Lazarus. He would not let him share his roof or his shelter; Lazarus lay outside, thrown down at his gate, and did not get so much as a word from him. But see how, when the rich man fell into distress himself and needed Lazarus’s help, he failed to get it. For if we are ashamed of those of whom Christ is not ashamed, we are ashamed of Christ, since we are ashamed of his friends. Let your table be filled with the maimed and the lame. Christ comes through them, not through the rich. [k]

Perhaps you laugh when you hear this. So that you will not think it is my word, listen to Christ himself speaking, and then you will not laugh, but shudder: “When you give a dinner or a supper, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they invite you back and you are repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and you will be blessed, because they have nothing to repay you with; for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Luke 14, verses 12 to 14).

And your glory is greater even here, if you love that. For from the first sort of guests come envy, malice, slander, abuse, and a great fear that something improper may happen. If those you invite are your superiors, you stand like a servant before his master, afraid of their criticism and their tongues. But with these guests there is nothing of the kind: whatever you bring them, they receive it all with pleasure. The applause is fuller, the glory brighter, the admiration higher. Everyone who hears of it applauds the first kind of host less than the second. If you do not believe it, you who are rich, you who invite generals and governors, put it to the test. Invite the poor, fill your table with them, and see whether you are not applauded by all, loved by all, and held by all as a father. From those other feasts there is no gain; but for these, heaven is in store, and the good things of heaven. May we all share in them, 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.