Homily 34 — Hebrews 13, verses 17 to 25

“Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them. For they keep watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account, so that they may do it with joy and not with grief, for that would be of no profit to you.” [a]

To be without a ruler is an evil. It is the occasion of many disasters and the source of disorder and confusion. Take the leader away from a chorus, and the chorus will no longer keep in tune or in order. Remove the commander from an army’s phalanx, and its maneuvers will no longer be made in time and in order. Take the helmsman away from a ship, and you will sink the vessel. In the same way, remove the shepherd from a flock, and you have overthrown and destroyed everything.

So having no ruler is an evil and a cause of ruin. But disobedience to rulers is no less an evil, for it comes to the same thing again. A people that does not obey its ruler is like a people that has none, and perhaps even worse. In the first case they at least have some excuse for their disorder; in the second they no longer have any, and they are punished.

But perhaps someone will say: “There is also a third evil, when the ruler is bad.” I know it myself, and it is no small evil. It is even a far worse evil than having no ruler at all. It is better to be led by no one than to be led by someone who is evil. Those who have no leader are often saved, though often in danger too; but those who are led by an evil man will be in danger altogether, since they are being led into the pit of destruction.

How, then, does Paul say, “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them”? He had said above, “Follow their faith, considering the outcome of their way of life” (verse 7), and then he said, “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them.”

“What then? When he is wicked, should we obey him?”

Wicked? In what sense? If it is in regard to the faith, run from him and avoid him — not only if he is a man, but even if he is an angel come down from heaven. But if it is in regard to his life, do not pry into it with curiosity. And I do not bring this out of my own head, but from the divine Scripture. Listen to Christ saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat” (Matthew 23, verse 2). He had first said many fearful things about them, and then he says, “They sit on Moses’ seat; so whatever they tell you to observe, do it; but do not do as they do” (Matthew 23, verses 2 and 3). What he means is: they have the dignity of the office, but their lives are unclean. But you pay attention, not to their lives, but to their words. For no one would be harmed by their characters. How so? Because their characters are plain for everyone to see, and also because, even if such a man were ten thousand times as wicked, he will never teach what is wicked. But where the faith is concerned, the evil is not plain to everyone, and the wicked ruler will not shrink from teaching it.

Moreover, “Do not judge, so that you will not be judged” (Matthew 7, verse 1) concerns life, not faith. Surely what follows makes this plain. For he says, “Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the beam that is in your own eye?” (Matthew 7, verse 3).

“So whatever they tell you to observe,” he says, “do it” — and doing belongs to works, not to faith — “but do not do as they do.” Do you see that the discussion is not about doctrines, but about life and works?

Paul, however, first praised them, and then says, “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account.” [c]

Let those who rule listen too, and not only those under their rule. Just as the subjects ought to be obedient, so the rulers ought to be watchful and sober. What are you saying? He keeps watch; he puts his own head at risk; he is liable to the punishment for your sins, and for your sake he must answer for things so fearful — and you are lazy, and put on a show of not caring, and take your ease? That is why he says, “so that they may do this with joy, and not with grief, for that would be of no profit to you.”

Do you see that the ruler who is despised ought not to take revenge, but that his great revenge is to weep and lament? A physician despised by his patient cannot take revenge either; he can only weep and lament. But if the ruler laments, he means, God brings punishment on you. For if we draw God to us when we lament our own sins, will we not do so much more when we lament the arrogance and contempt of others? Do you see that he does not let the ruler be carried away into insults? Do you see how great his philosophy is? The one who is despised, trampled underfoot, and spat upon ought to lament.

Do not feel secure because he does not take revenge on you, for lamenting is worse than any revenge. When he gains nothing by lamenting on his own, he calls on the Lord. It is just as with a teacher or a nurse: when the child will not listen, someone is called in who will deal with him more severely. So it is here too.

Oh, how great the danger! What can one say to those wretched men who throw themselves into such an abyss of punishments? You have to give an account of everyone you rule over — women and children and men. Into so great a fire you are putting your head! I am amazed if any of the rulers can be saved, when, in the face of such a threat and of the present indifference, I see some still running after it and throwing themselves under so great a burden of authority. [d]

Think of those who are dragged into office by force. Even they have no refuge or defense if they carry out their duty badly and are negligent. Aaron was dragged by force, and yet he was in danger. Moses again was in danger, though he had refused many times. Saul was entrusted with a different kind of rule, and after he had refused it, he was in danger because he managed it badly. If that is so, how much more is it so with those who take such pains to get office and throw themselves upon it! Such a man strips himself of every excuse far more. People ought to fear and tremble, both because of their conscience and because of the burden of the office. When they are dragged to it, they should not refuse once and for all; when they are not dragged, they should not throw themselves at it, but should even run from it, seeing in advance how great the dignity is. And when they have been seized for it, they ought again to show their reverent fear of God. Let nothing be overdone. If you have seen it coming, withdraw; convince yourself that you are unworthy of the office. Again, if you have been seized for it, be reverent in the same way, always showing a right mind.

Verse 18: “Pray for us,” he says, “for we are confident that we have a good conscience among all, wishing to live honorably.” [e]

Do you see that he used these words of defense because he was writing to people who were upset with him, who had turned away from him, who regarded him as a lawbreaker and could not bear even to hear his name? Since he was asking from those who hated him what everyone else asks from those who love them — their prayers for him — he brings this in here, saying, “We are confident that we have a good conscience.” Do not talk to me of accusations, he says: “Our conscience does not trouble us in anything, and we are not aware of having plotted against you.” “For we are confident,” he says, “that we have a good conscience among all” — not among the Gentiles only, but among you too. “We have done nothing with deceit, nothing with hypocrisy.” For it is likely that slanders of this kind were being spread about him: “They have been told about you,” it says, “that you teach apostasy” (Acts 21, verse 21). What he means is: “I do not write these things as an enemy or an opponent, but as a friend.” And he shows this by what follows, too.

Verse 19: “But I urge you all the more to do this, so that I may be restored to you sooner.”

To pray like this was the act of someone who loved them greatly — and not simply, but with all earnestness: “so that I may come to you quickly,” he says. The eager desire to come to them is the mark of someone whose conscience accuses him of nothing; so is asking them to pray for him.

So after first asking for their prayers, he then prays for every good thing for them himself. Verse 20: “Now may the God of peace,” he says — so do not be at odds with one another — “who brought again from the earth the Shepherd of the sheep” — this is said about the resurrection — “the great Shepherd” — another addition; here again, right to the end, he confirms for them his teaching about the resurrection — “through the blood of the eternal covenant, our Lord Jesus Christ,” verse 21, “make you perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you what is well-pleasing in his sight.”

Again he bears strong testimony to them. For what is made “perfect” is something that has had a beginning and is afterward completed. And he prays for them, which is the act of someone who longs for them. In his other letters he prays at the opening; here he does it at the end. “Working in you,” he says, “what is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.”

Verse 22: “And I urge you, brothers and sisters, bear with the word of exhortation, for indeed I have written you a letter in few words.” Do you see that he writes to them what he wrote to no one else? What he means is: “I am not even troubling you with a long discourse.” [h]

I suppose they were not at all unfavorable toward Timothy, and that is why he also put him forward. For, verse 23, “Know,” he says, “that our brother Timothy has been set free. If he comes soon, I will see you with him.” “Set free,” he says — from where? I suppose he had been thrown into prison; or if not that, that he had been sent away from Athens, for this too is mentioned in the Acts.

Verses 24 and 25: “Greet all those who rule over you, and all the saints. Those from Italy greet you. Grace be with you all. Amen.”

Do you see how he shows that virtue is born neither wholly from God nor from ourselves alone? First, by saying, “make you perfect in every good work.” What he means is: you do have virtue, but you need to be made complete. What is “good work and word”? It is having both life and doctrine right. “According to his will, working in you what is well-pleasing in his sight.” [i]

“In his sight,” he says. For this is the highest virtue: to do what is well-pleasing in the sight of God, as the prophet also says, “And according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight” (Psalm 18, verse 24). And having written this much, he said it was little compared with what he was going to say. So he says in another place too: “As I wrote to you in few words, so that when you read it you may understand my insight into the mystery of Christ” (Ephesians 3, verses 3 and 4).

And notice his wisdom. He does not say, “I urge you, bear with the word of” warning, but “the word of exhortation” — that is, of comfort, of encouragement. What he means is that no one can be worn out by the length of what has been said. (Was it this, then, that made them turn away from him? Not at all; that is not what he means to express.) That is: even if you are faint-hearted — for it is typical of such people that they cannot bear a long discourse.

“Know that our brother Timothy has been set free; if he comes soon, I will see you with him.” This is enough to persuade them to submit, if he is ready to come with his disciple.

“Greet those who rule over you, and all the saints.” See how he honored them, since he wrote to them rather than to their rulers.

“Those from Italy greet you. Grace be with you all. Amen.” This was for all of them in common.

But how does grace come to be “with” us? If we do not treat the benefit with contempt; if we do not grow careless about the gift. And what is “the grace”? The forgiveness of sins, the cleansing: this is “with” us. For who, he means, can treat grace with contempt and not destroy it? For instance, he freely forgave you your sins. How, then, will the grace be “with” you — whether that means the good favor or the effective working of the Spirit? If you draw it to yourself by good deeds. For the cause of all good things is this: that the grace of the Spirit remains with us continually. It guides us into every good thing, just as, when it flies away from us, it ruins us and leaves us desolate.

So let us not drive it away from us. Whether it remains or departs depends on ourselves. The one happens when our minds are on heavenly things; the other, when they are on the things of this life. “Whom the world,” he says, “cannot receive, because it does not see him or know him” (John 14, verse 17). Do you see that a worldly soul cannot have him? We need great earnestness so that he may be held fast by us there, to direct all our affairs and carry them out in safety and in great peace. [k]

Think of a ship sailing with favorable winds. As long as it enjoys a fair and steady breeze, nothing can hinder it or sink it. More than that, the way it moves along makes both the sailors and the passengers marvel: it gives the sailors rest and does not force them to keep laboring at the oars, and it frees the passengers from all fear and gives them the most delightful view of its course. In the same way, a soul strengthened by the divine Spirit rides high above all the waves of this life. It cuts its way toward heaven more strongly than the ship, since it is not driven along by the wind, but has all its clean sails filled by the Comforter himself. And he drives out of our minds everything slack and loose.

For if the wind falls on a slack sail, it does nothing; and in the same way the Spirit does not stay in a slack soul. There must be great tautness, great intensity, so that our mind is on fire and our conduct in every circumstance is stretched tight and braced. For instance, when we pray, we ought to do it with great intensity, stretching the soul out toward heaven — not with ropes, but with great earnestness. Again, when we do works of mercy, we need intensity, so that thoughts of our household, care for our children, anxiety about our wife, and fear of poverty do not get in and slacken our sail. For if we stretch it tight on every side with the hope of the things to come, it takes the working of the Spirit well, and none of these perishable and miserable things will fall on it. Indeed, even if any of them does fall on it, it does it no harm, but is quickly thrown back by the tautness, shaken off, and falls away.

That is why we need great intensity. For we too are sailing over a great, wide sea, full of many monsters and many rocks, a sea that brings many storms on us and stirs up the most violent tempest out of calm weather. If we want to sail easily and without danger, then, we must stretch the sails — that is, our determination — for that is enough for us. So it was with Abraham: once he had stretched out his heart toward God and set his fixed resolve before him, what more did he need? Nothing. Instead, “he believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness” (Genesis 15, verse 6). But faith comes from a sincere will. He offered up his son, and though he did not kill him, he received a reward as if he had; though the deed was not done, the reward was given.

So let our sails be in good order — not grown old, for everything “that is decaying and growing old is ready to vanish away” (Hebrews 8, verse 13) — and not worn into holes, so that they can take the working of the Spirit. For, it says, “the unspiritual man does not receive the things of the Spirit” (First Corinthians 2, verse 14). Spider webs could not catch a gust of wind; in the same way the soul devoted to this life, the unspiritual man, will never be able to receive the grace of the Spirit. For our reasonings are no different from those webs: they hold together in appearance only, and have no strength at all.

Our condition, however, is not like that if we are watchful. Whatever falls upon the Christian, he bears it all and rises above it all, stronger than any whirlpool. Suppose there is a spiritual man, and countless disasters befall him: he is overcome by none of them. And what am I saying? Let poverty come upon him, disease, insults, abuse, mockery, beatings, every kind of punishment, every kind of ridicule, slanders and insults: he will laugh at them all, as though he were outside the world and freed from the feelings of the body.

And so that you know my words are not empty boasting, I think there are many such men even now — for example, among those who have taken up the life of the desert. You say: “But that is nothing remarkable.” But I say that among those who live in cities, too, there are such men whom no one suspects. And if you wish, I will be able to show you some among those of old. So that you may learn it, consider Paul, I beg you. What fearful thing did he not suffer, and not submit to? Yet he bore it all nobly. Let us imitate him, for so we will be able to put in at the peaceful harbors with a rich cargo. So let us stretch our minds toward heaven; let us be held fast by that longing; let us clothe ourselves with spiritual fire; let us wrap ourselves in its flame. No one who carries a flame fears those who meet him. Whether it is a wild beast, or a man, or countless snares, as long as he is armed with fire, everything stands out of his way, everything draws back. The flame is unbearable; the fire cannot be endured; it consumes everything.

With this fire let us clothe ourselves, giving glory to our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.