Homily 6 — Second Timothy 2, verses 20 to 26

“But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of clay, some for honor and some for dishonor. So if anyone purges himself from these, he will be a vessel for honor, consecrated, and useful to the Master, and prepared for every good work.” [a]

Many people, even now, are at a loss to explain why the wicked are allowed to remain and are not yet destroyed. No doubt various reasons can be given for this: that they may be converted, for instance, or that by their punishment they may be made an example to the many. But here Paul mentions a case of the same kind. He says, “In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay.” By this he shows that just as in a great house there is likely to be a great difference among the vessels, so it is here too, in the whole world. For he is not speaking of the church only, but of the world at large.

Please do not think he means this of the church. There he would not have any vessels of wood or of clay, but all of gold or silver, for there is the body of Christ, there is that “pure virgin, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing” (Ephesians 5, verse 27). What he means to say is this: do not let it disturb you that there are corrupt and wicked people, for in a great house there are such vessels too. But what then? They do not receive the same honor.

“But some are for honor and some for dishonor.” “No,” someone says, “in a house they may be of some use, but in the world they are of no use at all.” Even if God does not employ them for such honorable service, he makes use of them for other purposes. For instance, the man who loves empty glory builds a great deal; so does the greedy man, the merchant, the tradesman, the magistrate. There are certain works in the world suited to these people. But the golden vessel is not of that kind; it is used at the royal table. He does not say, however, that wickedness is a necessary thing — how could it be? — but that the wicked too have their work. For if all were of gold or silver, there would be no need of the cheaper sort. If everyone were hardy, for instance, there would be no need of houses; if everyone were free of luxury, there would be no need of delicacies; if everyone cared only for necessities, there would be no need of splendid buildings.

“So if anyone purges himself from these, he will be a vessel for honor, consecrated.” Do you see that being a vessel of gold or of clay is not a matter of nature, or of the necessity of the material, but of our own choice? Otherwise the clay vessel could never become gold, nor could the golden one sink to the cheapness of the other. But in this case there is much change, and passing from one state to another. Paul was a vessel of clay and became one of gold.

Judas was a vessel of gold and became one of clay. So the vessels of clay are such because of uncleanness: the sexually immoral man and the greedy man become vessels of clay. “But then how does he say elsewhere, ‘We have this treasure in vessels of clay’? There he does not despise the clay vessel but honors it, speaking of it as the container of the treasure.” There he is showing nature itself, not the kind of material. What he means is that our body is a vessel of clay. Just as earthenware is nothing but baked clay, so our body is nothing but clay made firm by the heat of the soul. That it is of clay is plain. A vessel of that kind often falls and is broken and smashed to pieces; in the same way our body falls and is dissolved by death. How do our bones, hard and dry as they are, differ from a piece of broken pottery? Or our flesh from clay, since, like clay, it is made up of water? But, as I said, why does he not speak of it with contempt there? Because there he is discussing its nature, and here our choice. [c]

“If anyone,” he says, “purges himself from these” — he does not say merely “cleanses,” but “cleanses out,” that is, cleanses himself completely — “he will be a vessel for honor, consecrated, and useful to the Master.” So the others are useless for any good purpose, even though some use is made of them. “And prepared for every good work.” Even if he does not do it, he is fit for it and has the capacity for it. So we ought to be prepared for everything: even for death, for martyrdom, for a life of virginity, or for all of these together.

Verse 22: “Flee also youthful cravings.” Not only the craving for sexual immorality, but every unruly desire is a youthful craving. Let the old learn that they must not do the deeds of the young. If someone is given to insolence, or loves power, riches, or bodily pleasures, that is a youthful craving, and a foolish one. These things must come from a heart not yet steady, from a mind not deeply grounded but still wavering. What, then, does he advise, so that no one may be captured by these things? “Flee youthful” imaginings, “but pursue righteousness, faith, love, peace, with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.” [d]

By “righteousness” he means virtue in general, a godly life; and then “faith, gentleness, love.”

What is meant by “those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart”? It is as if he said: Do not take pleasure in those who merely call on the Lord, but in those who call on him sincerely and without pretense, who have nothing deceitful about them, who come to him in peace, who are not quarrelsome. Keep company with these. With others, do not be on easy terms; only, as far as it lies with you, be at peace.

Verse 23: “But avoid foolish and ignorant questions, knowing that they breed quarrels.” Do you see how everywhere he draws Timothy away from questions? Not that Timothy was unable to overthrow them; he was well able. If he had not been able, Paul would have said, “Be diligent, so that you may be able to refute them,” as he does when he says, “Devote yourself to reading, for by doing this you will save both yourself and those who hear you” (First Timothy 4, verses 13 and 16). [e]

But he knew that it was useless to enter into these disputes at all. There will be no end to them, except quarrels, hostility, insults and abuse. So “avoid” these “questions.” It follows that there are other questions, some relating to the Scriptures and some to other things.

Verse 24: “And the servant of the Lord must not quarrel.” Not even over questions should he quarrel, for the servant of the Lord must keep far from quarreling. God is the God of peace; what has the servant of the God of peace to do with quarreling?

“But be mild toward everyone.” How, then, does he say, “Rebuke with all authority” (Titus 2, verse 15), and again, “Let no one despise your youth” (First Timothy 4, verse 12), and again, “Rebuke them sharply” (Titus 1, verse 13)? Because this is consistent with gentleness. A strong rebuke, if it is given with mildness, is the one most likely to wound deeply. It is possible — truly it is — to reach someone more effectively by mildness than to overawe him by boldness. [f]

“Able to teach”: that is, to teach those who are willing to be taught. For “a man who is a heretic,” he says, “reject after a first and second warning” (Titus 3, verse 10).

“Patient.” He did well to add this, for it is a quality a teacher above all ought to have. Without it everything is in vain.

If fishermen do not despair, though they often cast their nets for a whole day and catch nothing, much less should we. For see what comes of it. From constant teaching it often happens that the plow of the word goes down into the depths of the soul and roots out the evil passion that troubled it. The one who hears often is moved in the end. A person cannot go on hearing continually without some effect being produced.

So sometimes, when someone was on the point of being persuaded, he is lost because we grew weary. It is as if an unskilled farmer were to dig around the vine he had planted in the first year, and look for some fruit in the second year, and again in the third, and, gathering nothing, were to despair after three years and abandon his vine in the fourth — just when he was about to receive the reward of his labors. And having said “Patient,” Paul is not satisfied, but goes on to say, in verse 25: “In gentleness instructing those who oppose.”

The one who teaches must take special care to do it with gentleness. A soul that wants to learn can gain no useful instruction from harshness and quarreling. Just when it would apply itself, it is thrown into confusion and learns nothing. Whoever means to gain any useful knowledge must above all be well disposed toward his teacher; if that is not achieved first, nothing needful or useful can be accomplished. And no one can be well disposed toward someone violent and overbearing. How, then, does he say, “A man who is a heretic, reject after a first and second warning”? There he is speaking of someone incorrigible, someone he knows to be sick beyond any possibility of cure.

“If perhaps God will give them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth.” Verse 26: “And that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil.” [g]

What he says amounts to this: perhaps there will be a change for the better. Perhaps! — for it is uncertain. So we ought to withdraw only from those of whom we can show plainly, and are fully convinced, that whatever is done they will not be reformed. “In gentleness,” he says. With this temper, you see, we ought to approach those who are willing to learn, and never stop talking with them until we have proved the point to them.

“Who are taken captive by him at his will.” “Taken captive” is truly said, for in the meantime they are adrift in error. Notice here how he teaches humility. He has not said, “if perhaps you should be able,” but “if perhaps God should grant them recovery.” So if anything is achieved, it is all the Lord’s doing. You plant, you water; but he sows, and makes it bear fruit. So let us not feel as though we ourselves had done the persuading, even if we should persuade someone. “Taken captive by him,” he says, “to his will.” No one will say that this has to do with doctrine; it has to do with life. For “his will” is that we live rightly. But some are in the snare of the devil because of the way they live; so we must not grow weary even with these.

“If perhaps,” he says, “they may recover, who are taken captive, to his will.” Now “if perhaps” implies great patience. For not doing the will of God is a snare of the devil. [h]

A sparrow that is not wholly shut in, but only caught by the foot, is still in the power of the one who set the snare. In the same way, even if we are not overthrown in everything, in both faith and life, but in life only, we are under the power of the devil. For “not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven”; and again, “I do not know you; depart from me, you who practice wrongdoing” (Matthew 7, verses 21 to 23). You see that there is no advantage in our faith when our Lord does not know us. And to the virgins he says the same: “I do not know you” (Matthew 25, verse 12). What, then, is the benefit of virginity, or of many labors, when the Lord does not know us?

In many places we find people not blamed for their faith, but punished for their evil life alone; just as elsewhere others are not reproved for evil lives, but perish for their corrupt teaching. For these things hold together. You see that when we do not do the will of God, we are in the snare of the devil. And often we go into hell not only because of a bad life, but because of a single failing, where there are no good qualities to weigh against it. The virgins were not accused of sexual immorality or adultery, nor of envy or ill will, nor of drunkenness, nor of unsound faith, but of a failure of oil — that is, they failed in almsgiving, for that is the oil meant. And those who were declared accursed in the words, “Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire,” were not accused of any such crimes, but of not having fed Christ.

Do you see that a failure in almsgiving is enough to throw a person into hellfire? For what good will anything do the one who does not give alms? Do you fast every day? So did those virgins, but it did them no good. Do you pray? What of it? Prayer without almsgiving bears no fruit; without it everything is unclean and unprofitable. The better part of virtue is destroyed. “Whoever does not love his brother,” Scripture says, “does not know God” (First John 4, verse 8). [i]

And how do you love him, when you do not even share with him these poor, worthless things? Tell me, then: do you keep chastity? On what account? From fear of punishment? By no means; it is by a natural endowment that you keep it. Yet if you were chaste from fear of punishment, and did violence to nature by submitting to so severe a rule, much more ought you to give alms. For governing the desire for wealth and governing the desire for bodily pleasures are not the same thing.

The second is much harder to restrain. Why? Because the pleasure is natural, and the desire for it is inborn and grows up naturally in the body. It is not so with riches. In this we are able to resemble God: in showing mercy and pity. So when we lack this quality, we are empty of all good. He has not said, “You will be like your Father if you fast,” nor “if you are virgins,” nor “if you pray.” He has not said, “You will be like your Father,” for any of these, since none of these things can be said of God, nor are they his acts. But what does he say? “Be merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful” (Luke 6, verse 36). This is the work of God. So if you do not have this, what do you have? He says, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice” (Hosea 6, verse 6).

God made heaven and earth and sea. Great works these, and worthy of his wisdom! But by none of these has he drawn human nature to himself so powerfully as by mercy and love for humankind. [l]

Those works indeed show power and wisdom and goodness; but far more does this, that he became a servant. Is it not above all for this that we admire him? Is it not for this that we are still more amazed at him? Nothing draws God to us so much as mercy. And the prophets speak on this subject from beginning to end.

But I do not mean mercy that comes with greed. That is not mercy. It is not the root of the thorn but of the olive that produces oil; in the same way it is not the root of greed, of wrongdoing, or of plunder that produces mercy. Do not slander almsgiving. Do not cause everyone to speak ill of it. If you commit robbery so that you can give alms, nothing is more wicked than your almsgiving. When it is produced by plunder, it is not almsgiving; it is inhumanity, it is cruelty, it is an insult to God. If Cain gave offense by offering inferior gifts of his own, will the man not give offense who offers the goods of another? An offering is nothing but a sacrifice, a purification, not a pollution. You who do not dare to pray with unclean hands — do you offer the dirt and filth of robbery, and think you are doing nothing wrong? You do not let your hands be full of dirt and filth; you clean them first, and then you make your offering. Yet that filth is no charge against you, while the other deserves reproach and blame.

So let our concern be, not how we may offer prayers and offerings with clean hands, but how the things offered may be pure. If someone washed a vessel clean and then filled it with unclean gifts, would it not be a ridiculous mockery? Let the hands be clean; and they will be, if we wash them not with water only, but first with righteousness. This is what purifies the hands. But if they are full of unrighteousness, they may be washed a thousand times and it does no good. “Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean” (Isaiah 1, verse 16), he says. But does he add, “Go to the baths, the lakes, the rivers”? No. What then? “Put away the evil of your doings from your souls.” This is being clean. This is being cleansed from defilement. This is real purity. The other is of little use; but this gives us confidence before God.

The other can be had by adulterers, thieves and murderers, by worthless, dissolute and effeminate men — and by the last of these most of all. They are always careful about keeping their bodies clean and scented with perfumes, washing their tomb. For their body is nothing but a tomb, since the soul is dead within it. So this cleanness may be theirs, but not the cleanness that is within.

Washing the body is no great matter. That is a Jewish purification, senseless and unprofitable, where there is no purity within. Suppose someone suffers from a festering sore or a spreading ulcer: let him wash his body as much as he likes, it does him no good. And if a decaying body gains nothing from being cleaned and from having its outward appearance disguised, what is gained by the purity of the body when the soul is infected with rottenness? Nothing! Our prayers ought to be pure, and they cannot be pure if they are sent up from a corrupt soul; and nothing so corrupts the soul as greed and plunder. [m]

But there are some who, after committing countless sins during the day, wash in the evening and go into the churches, lifting up their hands with great confidence, as though by the washing of the bath they had put off all their guilt. If that were so, it would be a great advantage to use the bath every day! I myself would never stop going to the baths, if it made us pure and cleansed us from our sins! But these things are trifling and ridiculous, children’s games. It is not the dirt of the body but the impurity of the soul that God turns away from. For he says, “Blessed are the pure” — does he say “in body”? No — “in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5, verse 8). And what does the prophet say? “Create in me a clean heart, O God” (Psalm 51, verse 10). And again, “Wash my heart from wickedness” (Jeremiah 4, verse 14).

It is of great use to be in the habit of doing good actions. See how trifling and unprofitable these washings are; yet when the soul is held by a habit, it does not depart from it, nor does it dare to come near in prayer until it has carried out these ceremonies. For instance, we have trained ourselves into a habit of washing and then praying, and without washing we do not think it right to pray. We are unwilling to pray with unwashed hands, as though we would offend God and violate our conscience. Now if this trifling custom has such power over us, and is kept every day, then if we had trained ourselves into a habit of almsgiving, and had resolved to keep it so constantly that we would never enter a house of prayer with empty hands, the point would be won. Great is the power of habit, both in good things and in evil; and when habit carries us along, there will be little trouble.

Many are in the habit of making the sign of the cross continually, and they need no one to remind them of it. Often, when the mind is wandering after other things, the hand is drawn by custom, as though by some living teacher, to make the sign without their meaning to. Some have trained themselves into a habit of never swearing at all, and so they never do it, whether willingly or unwillingly. Let us, then, train ourselves into such a habit of almsgiving.

What labor would it not have been worth to us to discover such a remedy! Tell me: if there were no relief of almsgiving, while we still made ourselves liable to God’s vengeance by our countless sins, would we not have lamented bitterly? Would we not have said, “If only it were possible to wash away our sins with our wealth, we would have parted with all of it! If only we could put away the wrath of God with our riches, we would not spare our property!” For if we do this in sickness, and at the point of death say, “If it were possible to buy off death, so-and-so would give all he owns,” much more would we in this matter.

See how great God’s love for humankind is. He has given us the power to buy off not the death of this life, but eternal death. He says: “Do not buy this short life, but the life that is everlasting. That is what I am selling you, not the other; I am not mocking you. If you gained the present life, you would have gained nothing. I know the worth of what I am offering you.” Those who bargain and trade in the goods of this world do not act like this. When they can take advantage of whomever they like, they give a little to get a great deal. It is not so with God. He gives the far greater for the less.

Tell me: if you went to a merchant, and he set before you two stones, one of little worth and the other very precious and sure to bring in great wealth, and he let you carry off the costly one for the price of the cheap one, would you complain of him? No! You would rather admire his generosity. So now two lives are set before us, the one temporal, the other eternal. God offers us these for sale, but he would rather sell us the second than the first. Why do we complain, like silly children, that we are getting the more precious one? Is it possible, then, to buy life with money? Yes — when what we give is our own and not someone else’s property; when we are not practicing fraud. But you say: “From now on the goods are mine.” They are not yours after plunder. They are still your neighbor’s, even if you were their master a thousand times over. If you received a deposit, it would not be your own even for the short time its owner was traveling, though it might be stored with you. If, then, what we received with the consent and thanks of those who left it with us is not ours even for the short time we keep it, much less is what we have plundered against its owner’s will. He is its master, however long you hold it back. But virtue is truly our own. As for money, even our own is not strictly ours, much less other people’s. Today it is ours; tomorrow it belongs to someone else. What belongs to virtue is our own possession. It does not suffer loss like other things, but is wholly possessed by all who have it. [n]

So let us acquire this, and let us despise riches, so that we may be able to attain those real goods. May God grant that we may be counted worthy to share in them, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and forever. Amen.