Appendix: Three Sermons

Appendix

The Hungry are Dying: Beggars and Bishops in Roman Cappadocia Susan R. Holman

Print publication date: 2001 Print ISBN-13: 9780195139129 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: November 2003 DOI: 10.1093/0195139127.001.0001

(p.183) Appendix

Three Sermons

Susan R. Holman

DOI:10.1093/0195139127.005.0001

Abstract and Keywords The Appendix supplies the first English translation of three Cappadocian sermons on poverty: Basil of Caesarea's “In time of famine and drought,” (Tempore famis et siccitatis; pg 31.303–28), Gregory of Nyssa's first sermon “On the Love of the Poor,” sometimes called “On Good Works,” (De beneficentia; pg 46.453–70), and Gregory of Nyssa's second sermon “On the Love of the Poor,” sometimes called “On the saying, ‘Whoever has done it to one of these has done it to me’” (In illud: Quatenus uni ex his fecistis mihi fecistis; pg 46.471–90). Basil's sermon (c.368–69 CE) describes famine and drought using vivid images of physical adult and infant suffering and appeals for aid using civic and biblical images. Gregory's sermons describe the homeless poor, victimized by war and disease, and appeal for charity and redemptive almsgiving to effect both physical and spiritual healing.

English translations exist for some of the key Cappadocian texts on poverty; these are cited in the bibliography. Three hitherto untranslated sermons that relate directly to the body of the poor as it is explored in this study are given here.

A. Basil, “In Time of Famine and Drought” B. Gregory of Nyssa, “On the Love of the Poor” 1: “On Good Works”

Page 1 of 29

PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (www.oxfordscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2020. All Rights Reserved. An individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use. Subscriber: University of Exeter; date: 16 January 2020 Appendix

C. Gregory of Nyssa, “On the Love of the Poor” 2: “On the Saying, ‘Whoever Has Done It to One of These Has Done It to Me’ ”

Basil's sermon “In Time of Famine and Drought” (Homilia dicta tempore famis et siccitatis =Hom. 8; CPG 2852) is translated from PG 31.303–328; a critical edition is wanting and this text must be regarded as provisional. My rendering of Gregory of Nyssa's two sermons, de Pauperibus amandis 1 (PG 46.453–70) and 2 (PG 46.471–90) (CPG 3196), is based on van Heck's critical edition (GNO 9.1:93–127), which includes the subtitles given here. The chapter divisions in Basil's text follow the manuscripts; Gregory's sermons contain no chapter divisions. Paragraph breaks unassociated with numbers are my own. Because of the flexible nuances of terms used to designate “poverty” and the “poor,” discussed in the text, and because these translations are intended for a broad audience of general readers, I have translated both penēs and ptōchos as “poor” without distinguishing which word is used in which instance. As a general rule, the English word poor is used only for these two Greek terms. A. Basil of Caesarea In Time of Famine and Drought [Tempore Famis Et Siccitatis] [304D] 1. “The lion roared, and who will not fear? The Lord God spoke, and who will not prophesy?” (Amos 3:8). Let us have an oracular prooemium for the oration, and let us take up the divinely inspired Amos as a coworker in the task set before us; it was he who applied remedies to the same evil disturbances that are happening (p.184) to us [305A], and who gave both counsel and judgment on those things that are profitable. For the prophet himself became a herald of repentance in former times when the people were abandoning their ancestral piety and trampling on scrupulous conformity with the laws, training themselves in the service of idols, by advising them to reverse their course and by confronting them with the threat of punishment.

Thus I pray, may it be permitted to me to demand the same zeal as that of the ancient accounts. Let their fate not be ours as well. For the people gave in easily to temptations, not drawn to that which is profitable but instead acting like some stubborn and ungovernable foal with its bridle in its teeth. Turning away from the straight road and running lawlessly, it snorted at the one who held the reins until, by falling into pits and trenches, it [305B] justly suffered the utter destruction of those who are self‐willed.

Oh, let that not be true now with you, children, you who were born to me through the gospel, who were swaddled with the blessing of my hands. But listen prudently, as an obedient soul, receiving advice gently, yielding to what is said as wax receives a seal, so that by our shared zeal I might myself receive delightful fruit by means of this labor, and that you might applaud this address in the day of deliverance from the present suffering.

Page 2 of 29

What, then, is this oration about, this proclamation you are hoping to hear?1

2. We see the sky, brothers, shut up, naked, and cloudless, this clarity so pure it causes gloom and grief [305C], although in the past we desired it, when clouds overshadowed us in sunless gloom. Now the fields are little more than withered clods, unpleasant, sterile, and unfruitful, cracked and pierced to the depths by the hot sun. The rich and flowing streams have fled away and the torrential paths of the great rivers are exhausted. Little children walk in them, and women cross them, laden with bundles. Many of our wells have dried up and we lack the basic necessities of life; we are new Israelites seeking a new Moses and his marvelous, effective rod in order that stones, [308A] being struck, might supply the needs of a thirsting people and clouds might drop down manna, that strange food. So beware. Let us not become a new narrative of famine and judgment to those who follow after us.

I was looking at the fields, and at the many people weeping over their fruitlessness, and I too poured out lamentation because no showers were pouring out upon us. The sown seed was parched in the ploughed furrows. What was peeping out and sprouting was miserably withered by the heat. In fact, some people are circumstantially inverting the gospel passage, saying, “The laborers are many and there is little harvest.” The farmers, kneeling heavily in the fields and gripping their knees with their hands (this indeed is the [308B] outward appearance of those who lament), weep over their vain toil, looking toward their young children and crying, gazing at their lamenting wives and wailing, stroking and, like a blind man, groping for their parched produce, wailing greatly like fathers losing their sons in the flower of manhood.

Let the prophet — remember the introduction a few moments ago — now speak to us: “And I,” he said, “held back the showers for your three months before the harvest, (p.185) and I shall rain upon one city and I shall not rain upon another city, and one part will be drenched and one part, upon which I shall not rain, will dry up; and two or three cities will be gathered in one to drink water, and they will not be filled because you did not turn [308C] unto me, says the Lord” (Amos 4:7–8). We have learned that God sent us these calamities as a consequence of our turning away and indifference, not to trip us up but eager to make us upright in the same way that good fathers treat children who are careless; although angry at them and distancing themselves from them, they do not intend any harm but rather are eager to draw them out of childish negligence and youthful sins into diligence.

Look, now, at how the multitude of our sins has caused unnatural seasons, and traded the proper forms for strange combinations indeed. The winter was dry with no moisture; everything froze and dried out, since there were neither snowflakes nor showers. The spring gave us the other extreme, [308D] — the

Page 3 of 29

heat, I mean — but again without rain. Feverish heat and icy cold, unforeseen, exceeded the boundaries of creation and conspired with evil to do us damage, to drive people from life [309A] and livelihood.

Indeed, what now is the cause of the disorder and the strange conjunctions?2 Why this strange new manifestation of the seasons? We have a mind; let us inquire; we are rational beings; let us reason. Is there not a captain of all things? Did God, the sovereign craftsman, forget the created order? Was He robbed of power and authority? Or perhaps He holds fast His power but does not discharge His authority; or was He persuaded to hardness, altering His excessive goodness and concern as our guardian; to turn it into misanthropy?

No wise person would say such things. However, our uncontrolled and culpable behavior is manifestly obvious: seizing on behalf of others, we do not share; we commend good works3 yet withhold them from those who are without. We are freed slaves, yet we do not have pity on our fellow slaves. [309B] We are nourished when hungry, yet we rush by the one in need. In want of nothing, having God as our treasurer and the one who defrays the costs, we become skinflints and asocial4 in relation to the poor. Our sheep multiply, yet the naked outnumber them. The storehouses are crowded with narrow corridors with abundant reserves, yet we have no mercy on those who mourn.5 For this cause the righteous tribunal threatens us. For this cause also, God will not open his hand, because we ourselves shut out brotherly love. For this cause, the farmlands are dry: because love has fled.

3. The voice of those making supplication cries out vainly, the sound scattering to the winds; for we have not listened to those who ask our help. And where is our prayer and entreaty? [309C] O men, except for a few, you devote yourselves to market (p.186) profit; you women collude with them in their materialism. Few remain at prayer with me, and these are distracted, yawning, constantly looking around and waiting for the cantor to finish the psalms, so they will be dismissed, as if from prison, from the church, and the required prayer. Even these smallest children, dismissed from their writing tablets at school and crying out along with us, share in our occupation as if it is a fun game; they make our grief into a holiday, since they are freed from the burden of their teacher and from the cares of their school subjects for a while. Most of the adult men, a pleasure‐seeking crowd, course through the city, easy, free and loud; [309D] they carry the cause of our troubles in their souls and have contrived and worked for our disaster.

Newborn infants without understanding or fault are being brought here in numbers for confession, even though they have no grounds for grieving, [312A] nor the knowledge nor ability to pray in the normal way. Come forth publically yourselves, I say, you who are defiled with sin; come forth falling on your knees,

Page 4 of 29

weeping, and groaning. Let the infant do what is proper to its own age! Why are you, the accused, hiding yourself as you push forward one who is not even under suspicion, to make amends? Surely the judge will not be kidded by6 the fact that you are introducing some substitute person to him? It would be right, in fact, for [the infant] to appear along with you — but not alone, by itself!

The Ninevites, weeping unto God with regret and lamenting those sins that Jonah — after the sea and the whale — decried, did not present newborns alone for repentance, while the adults went on with their licentious lives, making merry; rather, you see how fasting subdued the sinful fathers first and punishment was meted out on the fathers. [312B] Most likely the (Ninevite) infant lamented as well, so that sadness might rule through every age, both sensible and insensible, according to choice and according to necessity. And God, seeing them thus humbled, as though condemning themselves to every kind of overwhelming pain, healed their passion and remitted their punishment, restoring to wholeness those who mourned properly with perception.

O melodious repentance! O wise and prudent affliction! Not only did God allow irrational things to suffer that were exempt from punishment, but even those things constructed to cry out by necessity. For the sprout was withdrawn from the ox (Jonah 3:7–8), the young ram was driven away from the maternal breast, the nursing child was not in its mother's arms, but the mothers were in their own places and the children in theirs, [312C] while mournful voices from all cried in response and reechoed to one another. Starving children sought milk; mothers, torn apart with natural emotion, called to their offspring with sympathetic voices. Those being born, likewise starving, burst into the world and thrashed with the most vehement wailing, their mothers pierced to the marrow with natural grief. And by their repentance, as all were instructed together, the divine Word counted them saved. The old person lamented, tore out and scattered his grey hair. The youth and [313A] the one in his prime, being more impetuous, bitterly lamented even more vehemently. The poor moaned; the wealthy, forgetting luxury, balanced distress with self‐control. The king (p.187) transformed his splendor and glory into shame. He put aside the crown and covered his head with ashes; his purple robes discarded, he changed into sackcloth. The elevated throne was put aside and the wretch crawled to the earth. Forsaking the privilege of royal pleasures, he lamented together with the people; he became one with the many, because he saw the common lord of all enraged.

4. This is the right response for those who serve. This is repentance for those alienated by sin. Yet we sin much and repent carelessly and slothfully. Who in his [313B] prayer is pouring out tears to grasp a thunderstorm and seasonable rain? Who, to wipe out sin, imitates the blessed David, who waters his bed with lamentations? Who washes guests' feet, washing off the dust of the journey, so that in time he might

Page 5 of 29

importune God, seeking deliverance from drought? Who nourishes the fatherless child so that God might nurture for us the orphaned grain that is oppressed by the impotence of the winds? Who provides for a widow who is distressed by life's difficulties, so that the necessary food might be distributed?

Destroy the unjust account books, that sin might be dissolved. Wipe out the oppressive contract of usury that earth might bear appropriately. For when copper, gold, and inert substances multiply contrary to nature, then that which is naturally fecund becomes barren, condemned to fruitlessness, as vengeance on the established practices. [313C]

God is right to be angry, though he is delaying punishment for the fullness of time, since those who practice greed and who gather excessive wealth are now making the most of this power in what they have stored away. Those stockpiling gold quickly become pale like it, pale as the bread that they held in disdain until yesterday or the day before, since until then it had been easy to obtain.

Give, therefore; don't market it or keep the grain in the storehouses. Tell me, what good are heavy purses? Will you not be buried with those? Is not gold a thing of the earth? Will not useless clay rest alongside corporeal clay? You gathered it and still you lack one thing: the power to feed yourself. You and all your wealth will share one death; contrive a way of transporting7 a few grains; [313D] persuade the earth to bear fruit; effect liberation from the calamity by using the arrogance and swagger of wealth.

Perhaps you will ask help from some of the pious, the prayers of someone like Elijah the Tishbite, who might generously grant you remission from your fears: some man without property, pale,8 barefoot, homeless, without hearth, impoverished, covered with a single cloak, as Elijah [316A] was with the sheepskin, like him a man of prayer and self‐control. And if you should attain the needed support of such a one, would you not permanently deride the burden of possessions? Spit on the gold? Fling out the silver as refuse, that which you once considered your most beloved treasure but discovered to be a feeble aid in time of need? Because of you God sentenced (p.188) this calamity: having, you did not give; rushing past the hungry, you did not turn to those who were wailing; to those lying prostrate, you had no mercy.

Evil afflicts a whole land9 on account of only a few; a land is destroyed by the wickedness of some. Achar committed sacrilege and the whole battle array was whipped (Josh. 7:19–25) Zambri fornicated with the Midianites, and Israel fell into judgment (Num. 25:6–15).

[316B] 5. Let us examine our lives, therefore, both as individuals and as a community; let us attend to the drought as we would to a teacher, each recalling his own sins. Let us submit to the voice of the noble Job: “It is

Page 6 of 29

the hand of the Lord that touched me” (Job 19:21). And we especially consider it reasonable when calamity visits those who sin. Yet, one must add, such misfortunes of life by trial also produce spiritual maturity,10 that both poor and rich may be tried by difficulties, and each is rigorously tested by patient endurance. Such trials prove, especially in times like this, whether the afflicted one is philanthropic, aware of community identity, thankful, [316C] not blaspheming the reversal by letting life's turbulence turn their thinking upside‐down.

I myself have seen many (not by hearsay but actually knowing the men) who, on the one hand, while life proceeds for them from prosperity to wealth, as the saying goes, and circumstances go along moderately, if not perfectly, confess thanks to the benefactor. But then they become ingrates as soon as circumstances turn for the worse, and the rich man becomes poor, and the strong body ill, the glory and the splendor become shame and dishonor. They blaspheme aloud, hesitate to pray, inveigh God bitterly as if He is an intransigient debtor rather than the irritated master. Let such thoughts be abolished!

When you see that God is not freely bestowing on you your usual benefits, you say to yourself, [316D] “Is God powerless to supply food?” How is this? For He is Lord of heaven and of all that is set in order, a wise steward of times [317A] and seasons, governor over all, appointing certain seasons and solstices to withdraw from one another like a well‐ordered dance, to supply our necessities by this very diversity. According to the season He brings moisture, then He appoints heat, then cold, and that we should not entirely lack a period when it is dry. Thus God is able, offering and administering his power. Is He then without goodness? But this argument also does not hold up. For what purpose, if not for good, persuaded Him to create humankind in the beginning? What impelled the Creator, if He was unwilling, to take up earth and to form such a thing of beauty out of mud? What necessity persuaded the Logos to show favor to humankind according to His own image, so that having thus begun, He might demonstrate the arts [317B] and that He might teach humankind to philosophically consider the highest things, especially those not perceived by the senses?

Even by this reasoning God's supreme goodness is not lacking in our present circumstance. After all, has He not prevented the drought we see from turning into the final conflagration? And is not the sun, running a little off course as it approaches the earthly bodies, nonetheless restrained from burning up everything visible in a moment? Or does fire rain down from heaven as on chastised sinners?

(p.189) O man, get a grip on yourself and your reasoning: Do not behave like irrational children, who break the writing tablets when the teacher finds fault with them, pull to pieces the garments of the father who nourishes them, [317C]

Page 7 of 29

or tear at their mother's face with their fingernails. For the storm tries and torturously tests the captain, the stadium the athlete, the battle array the general, calamity the one who is large in soul, temptation the Christian. Distresses reveal the soul as fire does gold.

Are you poor? Do not despair. For dejection may cause sin, either as outrage washes over the mind and hardship causes vertigo, or, on the other hand, as wandering reasoning may develop into ingratitude. Rather, hope in God. For does He not see your lamentations? He holds food in his hands and delays giving it, so that He might test your steadfastness, that He might discern whether your judgment is like that of the unbridled and senseless, those who praise, flatter, and immodestly admire God when there is bread in their bellies; when [317D] supplies are low, this sort of person, who a little earlier worshiped God on account of pleasure, throws blasphemies at Him like stones.

Consider the Old and New Testaments. In each you will find many nourished in a variety of ways. There was Elijah on Carmel, the lofty and uninhabited mountain. He was the solitary eremite whose soul [320A] hoped in God for both justice and provisions for survival. Living thus he did not die of starvation; in fact the most rapacious and voracious of the birds delivered bread to him, becoming ministers of food to the righteous. By the Lord's commandment, the birds' nature was changed, they who greedily snatch up other foods now faithfully carrying loaves and necessary supplies. We learned in the scripture of these ravens who carried food to the man.

The Babylonian pit held the young Israelite in calamitous captivity but free in soul and mind: what then of him? In this story, the lions fasted contrary to nature, while he who nourished (lit., the tropheias), Habakkuk, was carried through the air, the angel carrying the man along with the stew (Dan. 14:33–39). The prophet was transported all the way across earth and sea in an instant, from Judaea to Babylonia, so that the righteous might not be distressed by hunger.

6. Again, then, what of the desert people whom Moses governed? How did they survive for forty years? No one was sowing. No oxen dragged the plough; there was no threshing floor, no trough, no storehouse; yet they had food without sowing or tilling, and a stone provided fountains of water that had not formerly existed, bursting forth to meet the need.

I will refrain from recounting each example of God's foreknowledge, which He often manifests in a fatherly way to humankind. But you, be strong a little in the catastrophe, following the noble Job's example, and do not change direction on account of the waves, neither cast off those readily portable virtues that you carry with you. As costly capital, preserve thanksgiving in your soul. I say to you: cling twice as tenaciously to thanksgiving as you do to luxury. Remember the apostolic saying, “In everything give thanks.”

Page 8 of 29

Are you poor? There is someone much poorer than you. You have enough bread for ten days; another has enough for one. As a good and kindhearted person, make your surplus equal by distributing it to the needy. Do not shrink from giving of the little you have; do not treat your own calamity as if it is worse than the common suffering.11 (p.190) Even if you possess only one loaf of bread, and the beggar stands at the door, bring the one loaf out of the storeroom and, presenting it to the hands lifted up toward heaven, offer this merciful and considerate prayer:

One loaf which you see, O Lord, and the problem is evident, but as for me, I prefer your commandment to myself [320D] and I give of the little I have to the starving brother; for You also give to Your servant in trouble. I know Your great goodness and I also confidently believe in Your power, for You do not defer Your grace for another time, but disperse Your gifts when You wish.

And if you were to speak and act in this way, the bread that you should give out of your scarcity would become seed for planting; it would bear rich fruit, a pledge12 of sustenance, a patron of mercy. Say [321A] to yourself what the widow of Sidon said in a similar situation — remember the story — “As the Lord lives, I have only this in my house to feed my children and myself” (1 Kings 17:12). And if you should give out of your own deprivation, you too would have the vessel of oil abounding with grace, the never‐emptying pot of flour. For God's lavish grace on the faithful is exactly like that of the ever‐emptying, ever‐full, twice‐giving vessels of oil.

O poor one, lend to the rich God. Believe in the one who is at all times taking up the cause of the afflicted in his own person and supplying grace from his own stores. Trustworthy guarantor, he has vast treasuries all over the earth and sea. In fact, even if you were to demand back the loan in the middle of the ocean, you would be guaranteed to receive the capital with interest. For in his generosity, he loves honor.

[321B] 7. Starvation, the distress of the famished, is the supreme human calamity, a more miserable end than all other deaths. For when one considers other life‐threatening calamities, the sword brings a quick end; fire too extinguishes life quickly; and even wild beasts, tearing the limbs apart with their teeth, inflict fatal wounds which assure that the distress will not be prolonged. But famine is a slow evil, always approaching, always holding off like a beast in its den. The heat of the body cools. The form shrivels. Little by little strength diminishes. Flesh stretches across the bones like a spider web. The skin loses its bloom, as the rosy appearance fades [321C] and blood melts away. Nor is the skin white, but rather it withers into black while the livid body, suffering pitifully, manifests a dark and pale mottling. The knees no longer support the body

Page 9 of 29

but drag themselves by force, the voice is powerless, the eyes are sunken as if in a casket, like dried‐up nuts in their shells; the empty belly collapses, conforming itself to the shape of the backbone without any natural elasticity of the bowels. The person who rushes by such a body, how greatly worthy is he of chastisement? What excess of cruelty will he allow? Should he not be reckoned with the savagery of the beasts, accursed and a homicide? Whoever has it in his power to alleviate this evil [321D] but deliberately opts instead for profit, should be condemned as a murderer.

The agony of hunger has constrained many even to [324A] violate the limits of nature, in one case a man feeding on the bodies of his very race, in another a mother (p.191) on her child, who came forth from her stomach only to be dreadfully conceived again by the stomach. This drama is recorded in the Jewish history, the tragedy diligently chronicled in Josephus,13 when such an event seized the Jerusalemites who paid the righteous penalty for impiety toward the Lord.

You see him, even our very God, often disregarding many other misfortunes but sympathetically having pity on those who hunger. For “I have pity,” he said, “on the rabble” (Matt. 15:32). Even in the last judgment, to which the Lord will call the just, those who give freely will hold the first rank; the one who nourishes will stand first in honor,14 the supplier of bread will be called before everyone else; the kind and [324B] bountiful will be escorted to life before all the other righteous. The one who distances himself from the community and is asocial15 and stingy will be handed over to the fire before all [other] sinners.

The present season thus summons you to the mother of all commandments: take great care that the age of festival and covenant should not pass you by. For time flows on and does not wait for those who loiter; the days hasten on; they pass by the one who hesitates. As the current of a river does not stand still even if no one ever comes to it, tests it, and puts the water to use, so also time cannot stop its compulsory circuits as it goes forward, nor is it able to reverse its course if someone does not seize an opportunity. Seize, therefore, and fulfill the commandment as you would take hold of a fugitive, securing it from all sides with grasping hands and encircling arms. [324C] Give a little and gain much; destroy the original sin by freely distributing food. For as sin came through Adam's evil act of eating, so we ourselves blot out his treacherous consumption if we remedy the need and hunger of a brother.

8. People: listen! Christians: hearken! Thus says the Lord, not haranguing the people with his own voice [325A] but resonating through the mouths of His servants as through a musical instrument: Let us who are rational not seem more savage than those without reason, for they share the natural products of the earth. Flocks of sheep pasture on the same

Page 10 of 29

mountain and multitudes of horses graze on the same plain, each permitting the others all the natural enjoyment of the necessities. But we lock up what is common; we keep for ourselves the things that belong to everyone. That which the Hellenes call philanthropy puts us to shame! Among some of them the law of philanthropy16 is fulfilled by a large community sharing one table, common bread, and one hearth.

Let us not have the example of outsiders, but look at the example of the three thousand (Acts 2:44–45). Emulate the first constitution of the Christians, [325B] how they had all things in common: life, soul, concord, common table, undivided brotherhood, love without dissimulation, many working to one end, many souls agreeing in harmony.

You have many examples of brotherly love in the Old and New Testaments. Should you see an old man hungering, distribute freely and feed him, as Joseph fed (p.192) Jacob. Should you find an enemy in narrow straits, do not avenge yourself with hidden wrath, but feed him, as Joseph fed his betraying brothers. Should you meet with a suffering youth, lament as he lamented Benjamin, the son of the old man. Perhaps avarice tempts you, as the mistress tempted Joseph; it grabs you by the garments so that you scorn the commandment and [325C] prefer the love of gold and love of the world to the edict of the Master. When a thought should come warring with that commandment, urging the sound mind to love money, constraining you to neglect philanthropy and restraint, throw off your garments as well: being enraged, flee. Keep faith with the Lord, as Joseph kept faith with Potiphar; manage for one year as he did for seven.

Do not give everything you have to your pleasure, but give also something to the soul. Recognize that you have two daughters: present prosperity and life in heaven. If you do not wish to give everything to the greater one, at least divide it equally between the unbridled and the self‐controlled child. [325D] Do not show off the former by a luxurious way of life and display the other as naked and clothed with rags; for when it should be necessary for you to stand before Christ and to come before the judge's eyes, it is the life of virtue that receives the wedding garment and the invitation. Do not, therefore, present the bride deformed and unadorned to the bridegroom [328A] lest, after beholding her, he should turn his face away, that seeing her he should hate her and deny the union. Rather, dress her appropriately. Keep her beautiful for the appointed wedding so that she might also light her lamp with the wise virgins, having the inextinguishable fire of knowledge, not lacking the oil of right action, so that the inspired prophecy might be confirmed by works, and your own soul will manifest the saying, “At thy right hand stood the queen, arrayed in a vesture of woven gold, adorned with varied colors. Hearken, O daughter, and see, and incline thine ear: and the king will desire your beauty” (Ps. 45:10–11). For the Psalmist pointed to those things having to do with reproduction, publically proclaiming

Page 11 of 29

the youthful prime of the generative body, [328B] but it is also an image of each soul, that is, if indeed the Church community supports each soul.

9. Think reasonably about that which is and that which shall come, and what you might lose through shameful profit. Your body, the thing by which you recognize life, will desert you. Although you will have arrived in the revealed presence of the expected judge, you will have shut yourself off from the gift of the honors and the heavenly glory; instead of a long and happy life, you will be opening the ever‐burning fire, Gehenna, punishments, and bitter things in eternal agony.

Do not dismiss me as if I am like a mother or nurse, frightening you with some imaginative monster as they often do to very young children: when they weep endlessly and without control, they silence them with false stories. These are no fables but an oration proclaimed with the voice of truth. Know too, truly, according to the public proclamation of the Gospel, that no jot or tittle will pass away. Even the body hidden in the coffin will rise, and the soul cut off by death will again dwell in the body, and sharp scrutiny of life's events will come into one's head, [no one else] testifying. The soul herself will testify from the conscience. May it be measured out to each according to his worth by the Righteous Judge to whom is due glory, strength, and worship unto the ages of ages. Amen.

(p.193) B. Gregory of Nyssa On the Love of the Poor: 1 “On Good Works” [De beneficentia]

[453] The president of this church and the ones who teach us perfect piety and the ways of virtue have much in common with the grammarians and primary teachers. When they receive children from their parents, while yet as lisping infants, they do not introduce them to advanced studies but begin by tracing “alpha” in wax, and then the rest of the alphabet; the teacher instructs them on the names of the letters and makes them practice tracing outlines of the letter with their hand. He moves on next to the study of syllables and the pronunciation of words. In the same way, the leaders of the Church begin by teaching the faithful the rudiments of knowledge and only later treating the more advanced concepts. Over the past two days, I denounced the pleasures of the mouth and the belly. Don't think that today, too, I am going to say the usual things: that it is a fine thing to spurn meat, to abstain from wine, that laughter‐loving dionysiac, to moderate the zeal of your cooks and to hold back the weary hand of your cupbearers. I insisted on this point, and your behavior has proven to me that my counsel was not in vain. Since you have learned the elementary lesson, it is now worthwhile to take up next the greater and more mature17 teachings.

There is an abstinence that is spiritual, and self‐control that is immaterial: this is the renunciation of sin that turns toward the soul. It is on this account that abstinence from food was enjoined. Abstain now from evil. [456] Practice self‐

Page 12 of 29

control in your appetite for other people's belongings! Renounce dishonest profits! Starve to death your greed for Mammon. Let there be nothing at your house that has been acquired by violence or theft. What good is it to keep meat out of your mouth if you bite your brother with wickedness? What good does it serve you to observe a strict frugality at home if you unjustly steal from the poor? What kind of piety teaches you to drink water while you hatch plots and drink the blood of a man you have shamefully cheated? Judas, after all, fasted along with the eleven, but failed to master his greed; his salvation gained nothing by fasting. And the devil does not eat, for he is an incorporeal spirit, but he fell from on high through wickedness. Likewise, none of the demons can be accused of gorging themselves, of excessive drinking or getting drunk, for their nature makes feeding unnecessary; nevertheless, night and day, they roam through the air, agents and servants of evil, eager for our loss. They ooze with bitterness and jealousy — things it is well to avoid — at the idea that humans may enter into an intimacy with God, since they have fallen from the supremely worthy dwelling.

Accordingly, let the philosophic way be an instructive model for the Christian life, and let the soul flee from the damaging effect of evil. For if we abstain from wine and meat while clearly and publically yielding to sin, I guarantee and testify to you (p.194) that the ascetic regime of water and vegetables has no good effect, if the internal disposition is incongruent with external appearance. Fasting was ordained for the soul's purification. If our thoughts and actions degrade it, why force ourselves to drink nothing but water, and why work this filthy quagmire? To what advantage is a fasting of the body if the spirit is not clean? It is no use if the chariot is well‐built and the team of horses well disciplined, if the charioteer is insane. What good is a sound ship if the captain is drunk? Fasting is the very foundation of virtue, just as the foundations of a house and keel of a ship are useless and without value, however solidly laid, if the rest is not built with skill. All our austerity likewise does no good unless it nurtures other virtues and receives them as a companion. Let the fear of God teach the tongue to speak only with knowledge, not using idle phrases but only what is moderate and timely, words that are essential and to the point. Let us ponder our terms, not deafening our interlocutors with a verbal shower. This is why the fine membrane that holds the tongue to the lower jaw bears the name of a bridle, so that we might not speak totally at random. Speak praise, not insult: commend, do not blaspheme: bless and do not slander; thus the thought of God stops our heedless hand and holds it as if it were in bonds. This is why we fast, to commemorate the passion of our Lamb [457] who, before being nailed to the cross, submitted to insults and brutalities. Let us not imitate the conduct of Judas, we who are disciples of Christ. If we watch our ulterior motives, Isaiah will demand of us, “Why fast during the dispute and quarrel, while you are beating up the lowly with your fist?” (Isa. 58:4) This prophet also teaches us what makes up a pure and sincere fast: “Loose all chains of injustice, send free

Page 13 of 29

the oppressed, untie the bonds of forced indenture; share your bread with the hungry, lodge in your (own) house the poor who have no shelter” (Isa. 56:6–7).

We have seen in these days a great number of the naked and homeless. For the most part they are victims of war who knock at our doors. But there is also no lack of strangers and exiles, and their hands, stretched out imploring, can be seen everywhere. Their roof is the sky. For shelter they use porticos, alleys, and the deserted corners of the town. They hide in the cracks of walls like owls. Their clothing consists of wretched rags. Their harvest depends on human pity. For meals they have only the alms tossed at them by those who pass by. For drink they use the springs, as do the animals. Their cup is the hollow of their hand, their storeroom their pocket, or rather whatever part of it has not been torn and cannot hold whatever has been put into it. For a dining table they use their joined knees, and their lamp is the sun. Instead of the public baths, they wash in the river or pond that God gives to all. This life of theirs, wandering and brutal, was not that assigned to them by birth but results from their tribulations and their miseries.

Assist these people, you who practice abstinence. Be generous on behalf of your unfortunate brethren. That which you withhold from your belly, give to the poor. Let a fear of God level out the differences between you and them: with self‐ control, carefully avoid two contrary evils: your own gorging and the hunger of your brethren. This is how the physician works: he puts some on diets and gives supplementary foods to others, so that by additions and subtractions health can be managed in each individual case. So follow this salutary advice. Let reason open the doors of the rich. Let wise counsel lead the poor to the wealthy.

(p.195) But dialectic will hardly enrich those in such straits. Let the eternal word of God give also a house and a light and table, by means of the household of the Word. Speak to them with affection and alleviate their miseries with your own substance.

In addition to these are the other poor,18 very ill and bedridden. Let everyone take care of his neighbors. Don't let someone else treat those in your neighborhood. Don't let another rob you of the treasure laid up for you. Embrace the wretched as gold: take into your arms [embrace] the afflicted as you would your own health, [as you would care for] the safety of your wife, your children, your domestics and all your house. [460] The sick who is poor is doubly poor.19 For the poor who are in good health go from door to door, approaching the homes of the rich or setting up camp at the crossroads and there hailing all who pass by. But those trampled by illness, shut up in their narrow rooms and narrow nooks, are only able, like Daniel in his cistern (Dan. 14:33–39), to wait for you, devout and charitable, as though for Habakkuk. Become a colleague of the prophet with your alms. Nourish those in need, immediately and without hesitating. The gift will not result in loss: don't be afraid. The fruits of merciful

Page 14 of 29

acts are abundant. Sow your benefactions and your house will be filled with a plentiful harvest.

You will say, “I am poor; me too!” So it is! Nevertheless, give. Give what you have. God does not demand what is beyond your means. You give bread, someone else a cup of wine, another an outer garment; in this way, through a collective contribution, the misfortunes of one person are eased. Moses did not receive the offerings for the Tabernacle from a single benefactor,20 but all the people gave him contributions: the rich gave gold, others gave silver, the poor gave animal skins, and the most indigent joined together to offer goat‐hair (Ex. 25:1–7). Do you remember how the widow's coin surpassed the liberality of the wealthy? (Luke 21:1–4). She emptied herself of all that she possessed. The rich, for their part, gave only a portion.

Do not despise those who are stretched out on the ground as if they merit no respect. Consider who they are and you will discover their worth. They bear the countenance21 of our Savior. The Lord in His goodness has given them His own countenance in order that it might cause the hard‐hearted, those who hate the poor,22 to blush with shame, just as those being robbed thrust before their attackers the images of their king23 to shame the enemy with the appearance of the ruler. The poor are the stewards of our hope, doorkeepers of the kingdom, who open the door to the righteous and close it again to the unloving and misanthropists. These are vehement and good advocates. They defend and prosecute not by speaking, but by being seen by the judge. For the deed done to them cries out to the one who fathoms the heart in a voice clearer than the herald's trumpet.

(p.196) And it is on account of these that the terrifying judgment of God, which you have often heard, was described in the gospels. There I have seen24 the Son of man descend from the sky and walking in the air as one walks on earth, and thousands of angels escorting him. Then the throne of glory appeared in the sky, and the king sitting on it, and all the people who ever lived under the sun and breathed this air were separated into two [461] camps, and the multitude stood by the tribunal seat. One group, everyone on the right, were called the “sheep.” I heard that those in the camp on the left were designated “goats.” They deserved this epithet on account of their behavior. The judge interrogated the accused and I listened to their answers. Each received his due: to those who had lived an exemplary life, enjoyment of the kingdom [was granted]; to the misanthropists and wicked, [the judgment was] punishment by fire, and for all of eternity.

The scripture tells this account with such care, and our court of justice has been painted so precisely for no other reason than to teach us the grace and the value of beneficence.25 For this preserves our life, mother of the poor, teacher of the rich, good nurse, caretaker of the aged, treasury of those in need, universal

Page 15 of 29

haven of the unfortunate, who measures out her providential care to all ages and all calamities. As those who mount and preside at the games, the leader proclaims his love of honor by the sound of a trumpet and announces the prizes to all the competitors, and beneficence summons together those who have fallen on hard times and who are in critical circumstances, distributing to those who come forth not blows, but the healing of misfortunes. She is more exalted than every feat of prowess, assisting God, friend of the good man and in close fellowship with him. It is God Himself, who in the first instance manifests Himself to us as the author of good and philanthropic deeds: the creation of the earth, the earth, the arrangement of the heavens, the well‐ordered rhythm of the seasons, the warmth of the sun, the formation, by cooling, of ice, in short, all things, individually, He created not for Himself — for He had no need of such things — but He maintains them continually on our behalf; invisible farmer of human nourishment, He sows at the opportune moment and waters the earth skillfully. He gives seed to the sower, as Isaiah says (Isa. 55:10), now sprinkling water from the clouds in a gentle shower, later flooding the furrows in a violent downpour. When the delicate buds sprout and green blades appear, He sets the sun over them which, now uncovered, extends its warm and fiery rays so that the ears of grain may become ripe for the harvest. He also causes the clusters on the vine to swell, and in the autumn distills His wine for the thirsty and fattens our various flocks that humankind may have abundant meat. The fleece of some supply us with wool, the skin of others provide us with shoes. You see, God is the original designer of good deeds, nourishing the starving, watering the thirsty, clothing those who are naked, as has been said earlier. [464]

(p.197) And if you wish to know how He eases our sicknesses, hear this: the bee, from whom does she have the secret of wax and honey? Who causes the pine tree, the terebinth, or the mastic tree to produce tears of rosy resin? Who created the land of the Indies, the source of dry fruits and aromatics? Who has made oil to grow, that cures stiffness and bruises? Who has taught us to discern the roots and herbs and the understanding of their properties? Who established the art of healing, medicine? Who caused these thermal springs to gush from the veins of the earth, healing us with cold and hot, by loosening the things that are dry and have been constrained? Yes, we may aptly quote Baruch: “He searched out the entire path to knowledge and gave it to Jacob, his servant” (Baruch 3:36). For this reason we have arts that use fire and those that do not, others that use water and a myriad of practical inventions. And thus God, the founder of good works, provides for our needs with richness and kindness.

But as for us, each letter of the Bible teaches us to imitate our Savior and creator — as much as mortal can try to imitate eternal — yet we monopolize all for our own pleasure in that we spend our fortune on pleasures, in that we accumulate it in capital for our heirs. We do not even give those in distress a single thought, nor do we have any effective concern for those in need. Implacable hardness! A man sees another wanting bread and without

Page 16 of 29

nourishment. Instead of promptly caring and reaching out to rescue him, he ignores him as he might a nourishing plant pitifully wilting from lack of water under a parching sun, while at this man's home there is great abundance with the power to relieve many. For as the flow from a single spring nourishes many open fields, the prosperity of a single house can save a crowd of the poor, provided only that the greed and selfishness of the master does not [become] like a rock that, falling into the current of a stream, hinders its flow.

Let us not use everything for the flesh; let us live also for God. For the pleasures of the table assuage only a small part of our flesh, the throat; the food rots in the stomach and ends up in the sewer. Mercy and good deeds are works God loves; they divinize those who practice them and impress [or, stamp] them into the likeness of goodness, that [465] they may become the image of the Primordial Being, pure, who surpasses all intelligence. But what rewards are promised for our efforts? In this life a good hope, an eager expectation of joy. And in the next, when we will have abandoned this fragile flesh and be clothed with immortality, a blessed life, unchangeable and indestructible, prepared among wondrous and as yet unimaginable delights.

Since you have been created with reason, and since you have been endowed with an intelligence that can interpret and inculcate the divine, don't be deceived by ephemeral things. Try to acquire riches that will never abandon their master. Moderate your life's needs. Don't retain everything for yourself, but share with the poor, who are the favorites of God. All belongs to God, our common father. And we are all brothers of the same race. It is best and more just that brothers reap an equal part of the heritage. But since in our imperfect order one or another always monopolizes the greater part of the heritage, at least let the others not be entirely frustrated. One man who wishes to retain all for himself and hinder his brothers from touching a third or even a fifth of the inheritance, this man is a brutal tyrant, an intractable barbarian, a craving beast, eagerly swallowing the whole meal himself, a beast far more ferocious than the entire animal kingdom. Even the wolf tolerates another wolf beside him as he eats, and dogs gather together to devour the same carcass. But such (p. 198) a man, always insatiable, refuses to share his wealth with his own kind. Content yourself with a modest table. Do not suffer shipwreck on the high seas of unbridled banquets, for this wreck is a grievous thing, not just being broken by submerged rocks, but rather being driven out into the shadowy abyss from which no one who falls in ever returns.

Use; do not misuse; so, too, Paul teaches you. Find your rest in temperate relaxation. Do not indulge in a frenzy of pleasures. Don't make yourself a destroyer of absolutely all living things, whether they be four‐footed and large or four‐footed and small, birds, fish, exotic or common, a good bargain or expensive. The sweat of the hunter ought not to fill your stomach like a bottomless well that many men digging cannot fill. Our gourmands do not, in

Page 17 of 29

fact, even spare the bottom of the sea, nor do they limit themselves to the fish that swim in the water, but they also bring up the crawling marine beasts from the ocean bed and drag them to shore. One pillages the oyster banks, one pursues the sea urchin, one captures the creeping cuttle fish, one plucks the octopus from the rock it grips, one eradicates the mollusks from their pedestal. All animal species, those that swim in the surface waters or live in the depths of the sea, [468] all are thus brought up into the atmosphere. The artful skills of the hedonist cleverly devise traps appropriate to each.

But what is the ultimate fate of gourmands? It is inevitable that sin, wherever it strikes, like a disease brings on its consequences. Hence those who prepare a delicate and sybaritic table are attracted necessarily to sumptuous dwellings and squander their goods on enormous houses and superfluous ornaments. They also like to rest on magnificent beds covered with flowery hangings, richly embroidered. They have massively expensive silver tables made for them; some are remarkable by the sheen of the metal; on others an artist engraves scenes and one is thus able, during the meal, to delight in beautiful legends. Think further of all the wine bowls, tripods, jars, ewers, platters, all sorts of cups; the clowns, mimes, kithara‐players, chanters, poets, male and female musicians, dancers, and all of the equipment of debauchery, boys with effeminate coiffures, shameless girls, sisters to Herodias in their indecency; this is that Herodias who caused the death of John, that is to say, the death of godlike and philosophical intellect in everyone.

While this is going on in the house, a myriad of Lazaruses sit at the gate, some dragging themselves along painfully, some with their eyes gouged out, others with amputated feet, some quite literally creep, mutilated in all their members.26 They cry and are not heard over the flutes' whistling, loud songs, and the cackling of bawling laughter. If they beg more loudly at the door, the porter of a barbarous master bounds out like a brute and drives them away with strokes of a stick, setting the dogs on them and lashing their ulcers with whipcord. Accordingly they retreat, the beloved of Christ, who embody the essential commandment without having gained one mouthful of bread or meat, but satiated with insults and blows. And in the den of Mammon, some vomit up their meal like an overflowing vessel; others sleep on the table, their wine cups beside them. Twofold is the sin that reigns in this house of shame: one is the excess of the drunkards, the other the hunger of the poor who have been driven away.

(p.199) If God sees these scenes — and I am sure He does — what fatal catastrophe, do you think, does He hold in store for those who hate the poor? Answer me! Or do you not know that it is to this end that the holy gospel shouts out and testifies with scenes of horror and dread? And thus it describes the deep groaning of the man flung into the pit and held captive in the abyss of the wicked. Another [469] of the same type is condemned to a sudden death, such that he plans in the evening his next day's pleasure but does not live to see the

Page 18 of 29

first ray of dawn (Luke 16:19; 12:20). Let us not be mortal, fitful, and temporary, in our faith but immortal, boundless, and never‐ending in our pleasure. For this is the attitude we cling to, those of us who wish to pander to sensual gratification in everything as though we were rich men without heirs, as though we might be lords of earthly things forever. At harvesttime we worry about sowing and at seed‐time we look forward to the joy of the harvest; we plant a plane tree in hopes of sheltering ourself beneath its shade; we bury the seed of the date palm in the wish of savoring its fruits. And often this comes about in our old age, when the late autumn of life has set in, when the winter of death is near, and there remain not a cycle of years but only three or four days.

Let us be realistic, considering these things reasonably: our life is fleeting and flowing, and time cannot be stopped nor held back; it is like a river's current that sweeps everything in its path to final destruction. If only, short‐lived and perishable as we are, we would not be called to render account. But such is exactly the peril that looms every hour: we will have to justify all to the incorruptible judge, even the words that we utter. This is why the blessed psalmist meditates on a similar thought and desires to know his own moment of death. He prays that God will tell him how many days he has left, in order to ready himself for his final hour, that he might not be caught unaware, like an unprepared traveler who must seek provisions while he is en route. “Lord,” he cries, “Make me to know my end and the measure of my days that I may know in what way I am lacking. See, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing in your sight” (Ps. 90:5–6).

Observe the conscientious prudence of this worthy soul, of royal rank though he was. For he perceives the king of kings and judge of judges as clearly as in a mirror, and he seeks to attain the perfect word of the commandments and to as an intact and flawless citizen of the world to come. May it come to pass that we all attain it by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the glory forever. Amen.

C. Gregory of Nyssa On the Love of the Poor: 2 “On the saying, ‘Whoever Has Done It to One of These Has Done It to Me’ ” [In illud: Quatenus uni ex his fecistis mihi fecistis]

[472] Again I hold before my eyes the dreadful vision of the return of the kingdom; upset by this account, my soul is not yet able to dispel this mental anguish, as a certain scene is manifest, the king of heaven sitting, formidable, on the throne of glory as the gospel describes it — a magnificent throne, if that is what it is, on which is placed the one who has no place. Thousands of angels form a circle around the king; (p.200) and he is a king great and fearsome, who, from the apex of his indescribable glory, inclines himself toward humanity, who I saw there assembling on foot — all the races that have lived from the beginning of humankind to this formidable day of the parousia — and meting out to all the penalty of their deeds. To those on the right, who lived rightly, he

Page 19 of 29

bestowed rewards. The reprobates, massed together on the left, were seen to be assigned the chastisement of their crimes; and he separated the one group from the other. He spoke to each; to one he spoke sweet and good words: “Come, you blessed of my father.” And to the others this dreadful curse: “Be gone, evil ones, to eternal fire” (Matt. 25:31). This image impresses my soul with such fear that it seems to be coming to life, and no reality seems at all urgent, nor can my spirit take interest in any other topic of study or reflection except these words. And yet it is not a small [thing], nor worthy of merely a little attention: to know how He comes who is always present, who says, “For I am with you always.” (Matt. 28:20) If He is with us, why does He announce His return as if He has been absent? If, [473] “in God we have life, movement and being,”27 according to the words of the apostle, it is impossible that the One who holds all in His hand can separate Himself in terms of place from that which He holds. How is He able to not be present to those whom He encompasses, or how is it possible to wait in the promise of His coming? What sort of throne is there for One who is bodiless? What is the limiting circumference of the throne of the One who is not limited to place?28 In all these thoughts I am running ahead of myself, as they are greater than our present concern with the end of time. Lest we be tossed out among the class of those condemned, we will do our best to use language by which each might derive profit.

Certainly, my brothers, certainly this threat continues to terrify me. I do not deny my trouble and I greatly wish that you would no longer scorn my fears. “Blessed,” says the wise man, “is the man always on guard. The one who hardens his heart falls into trouble” (Prov. 28:14). Insofar as the evil hour of grievous trial has not yet come, let us act wisely.

And how to elude this threat? By choosing the way, alive and fresh, indicated in scripture. What is the way? “I was hungry, I was thirsty, I was a stranger, naked, sick, a prisoner. That which you have done to one single person, it is to me to whom you have done it. Come, then, blessed of my father” (Matt. 25:40). What does this teach us? That God's blessing follows from obeying his commandments. In transgressing them, one courts condemnation. Let us choose blessing and flee the curse. It is for us to seek out or not to seek out, one or the other. Let us throw ourselves with zeal into the path of God where we will live, blessed by the Lord who holds himself bound to the attentions that we render to the needy. The commandment is vital especially now, with so many in need of basic essentials for survival, and many constrained by need, and many whose bodies are utterly spent from suffering sickness. In caring for them, you will see for yourself the realization of the good news. I think (p.201) above all of the victims of a terrible illness. The greater the attentions, the more vast the blessings that await the faithful servants of the commandment.

Page 20 of 29

But what ought we to do? Do not tear apart the unity of the Spirit, that is to say, do not consider as strangers those beings who partake of our nature; do not imitate the men who condemn the Gospel. I am talking about the priest and the Levite who passed by [476] on the road without the least compassion for the unfortunate man whom the robbers had come and left for dead. For if this sort is charged with not even discerning the brutal calamity of a naked body, how are we innocent — us — if we imitate these guilty ones? And indeed, the man who had been attacked by brigands presented a spectacle similar to the sight of those caught in suffering in these days.

You see these people, whose frightful malady has changed them into beasts. In place of fingernails, the disease has caused them to bear pieces of wood on hands and feet. Strange impressions are left on our paths! Who recognizes there a human foot? These people who yesterday stood upright and looked at the sky are here, today, bending to the earth, walking on four feet, practically changed into animals; Listen to the rasping wheeze that comes from their chest. Thus it is that they breathe.

But we assert that this condition is worse than that of animals. At least beasts preserve, in general, the appearance they had at birth until they die. None of them experiences the effects of such an avatar, so profound a reversal. With men all happens as if they change in nature, losing the traits of their species to be transformed into monsters. Their hands serve them as feet. Their knees become heels; their ankles and toes, if they are not completely eaten away, they drag miserably like the launch boat that drags the ships. You see a man and in him you have no respect for a brother? No, you do not pity a being of your own race; his affliction only instills horror in you, his begging repels you, and you flee his approach like the assault of a wild beast. Think a little: the angels, who are pure spirit, do not hesitate to touch humankind, and your body of flesh and blood is no horror to them at all. But why evoke angels? The Lord of the angels, the king of celestial bliss, became man for you and put on this stinking and unclean flesh, with the soul thus enclosed, in order to effect a total cure of your ills by his touch. But to you, you who share the nature of this brokenness, you flee your own race. No, my brothers, let not this odious judgment flatter you! Remember who you are and on whom you contemplate: a human person like yourself, whose basic nature is no different from your own. Don't count too heavily on the future. In condemning the sickness that preys upon the body of this man, you fail to consider whether you might be, in the process condemning yourself and all nature. For you yourself belong to the common nature of all. Treat all therefore as one common reality.

[477] Why aren't you moved by any of the diseases you perceive happening to other people? You see the wandering men who are scattered along our roads like cattle foraging for a little nourishment, clothed in wretched rags, a wooden staff in their hands to arm and support them. Yet these are not their own fingers that

Page 21 of 29

they clasp, but a species of straps lying along their wrists. A torn scrip, a morsel of stale bread, that is their entire hearth, home, light, bed, barn, table, all the supplies of life. And do you not know who it is who lives in this condition? Man born in the image of God, entrusted with the governance of the earth and the rule over all creatures, here so alienated by sickness that one hesitates to recognize him. He has none of the (p.202) appearance of a man, nor those of a beast. Do you think about the man? But the human body disowns this hideous form. Do you try to see here an animal? But there is no species that takes the form of this monster. Alone, they dare to look at themselves among themselves, and they live in bands, united by their common sufferings. To outsiders they only awaken disgust. Among themselves necessity overrides the horror that they give themselves. Driven away from everywhere, they form a society apart and living, mixed together, closely [in a narrow space]. Can you distinguish their gloomy dances? Do you listen to their plaintive songs? How do they arrive to make a parade of their infirmities and give the crowds the spectacle of their crippled bodies? Macabre jugglers, exhibiting their diverse mutilations! Making sad melodies and gloomy chants, poets of a unique type of tragedy where, without any need of new subjects, they fill the stage with their own misfortunes. What expressions! What detailed descriptions! What events do we hear? They tell how they have been driven away by their own parents, without the least grief over their affliction, how they have been banished from the assemblies, festivals, the markets, treated like murderers and parricides, condemned like those to perpetual exile, but much worse yet. For criminals are always able to establish themselves abroad and live among the members of a collective group. Alone, the sick are driven out from all countries, like designated enemies of the human race. They are not considered worthy of a roof, a common table, or any furniture.

As if this is not bad enough, they are forbidden from the public fountains as well as the streams: they are likely to poison them, it is said. If a dog comes there to moisten his bloody tongue, it is not decreed that the water has been polluted. But if only a sick man approaches there, at once the stream is condemned because of him. Such are their stories and such their complaints. This is why, pressed by hunger, they come to throw themselves at the feet of the public and implore the first to appear. This atrocious spectacle has often filled me with alarm; often I have felt deeply upset by it, and now [480] it utterly confounds my thoughts. I see again this pitiable suffering, these scenes that force one to tears, these human beings dragging themselves along the road, half‐dead, yet supremely human. Rather than men, theirs is a lamentable wreckage. Their malady has robbed them of the traits that would permit them to be identified. One is not able to recognize humans in them: they have lost the form. Alone among the living, they detest themselves and abhor the day they were born, since they have reason to curse these hours that have inaugurated such a horrendous existence. Human beings, I say, who are ashamed to answer to this

Page 22 of 29

common name, and who fear dishonoring the common nature by carrying the title. They pass their life ever groaning and never lack a good excuse for tears. All that they ever need to do to awaken their own plaintive cries is to look at themselves. For they do not know whether it is worse to lose their members or still to have them: should they be sad that nature sometimes spares them rather than mutilating them? Which is worse: to be able to see the evidence of their loss or to no longer have it in sight, the malady having rendered them blind? To have such misfortunes to relate, or to be dumb victims for whom the leprosy has eaten away their tongue? To feed miserably on a mouthful of bread or to have lost the form of the mouth altogether and no longer be able to eat like everyone else? To have the experience of the body rotting like carrion, or to be completely without nerve sensations? Where is their sight? Their smell? (p.203) Their touch? Where are the other sensations that the infection eats away, little by little? One sees these unfortunates everywhere, trudging along like a flock in search of better pasture. To bargain for food, they carry their distress and show their ulcers by way of a beggar's palm. Isolated in their malady, they have no one to guide their way; their need brings them together and they themselves bring relief to one another. Powerless alone, they help one another and lend the use of their members to make up for those without. One always sees them together. The misfortune itself has fine points, more to their benefit if it advertises itself in all its horror. Each person is his own source of pity, but the public is especially further disturbed if it sees all the infirmities at one time, augmenting the horror of the particular miseries; the misfortunes of one's neighbor thus increase the compassion felt for each individual. This one brandishes a mutilated hand, another exposes a bloated abdomen, a third uncovers a now useless face and another a leg eaten away with gangrene. Anxious to expose his distress, each bares the affected part.

What then? Is one not sinning against the natural law by reducing this person's suffering to theatrical phrases, treating the disease with a speech and remembering it with a ballad?29 Is it not necessary rather to let our compassion and love for one another shine forth radiantly in action? There is a difference between words and action as great as the difference between a painting and the reality. The Lord affirms that we will be saved, not by our words but by our actions. Also, we ought not to short‐change the commandment that enjoins us to help them [the poor]. But let no one say that some place far away from our life is perfectly sufficient and send them off to some frontier, supplying them with food. For a plan of this sort displays neither mercy nor sympathy but is designed, in the guise of goodwill, to banish these people utterly from our life. Are we not willing to shelter pigs and dogs under our roof? The hunters are often not separated, even at night, from their dogs. Look at the love that the peasant has for his calf. Even better, the traveler washes his donkey's hoofs with his own hands, brushes his back, carries out his dung, and cleans the stable. And will we

Page 23 of 29

disparage our own kin and race as baser than the animals? Let these things not be — no, my brothers! Resolve that this inhumanity will not triumph.

Remember who they are on whom we meditate: on human beings, in no way distinct from common nature. “There is for all only one entrance into life”30: one way to live, to drink, to eat, only one physical make‐up, a common biological law, only one physical death, only one return to the dust. All are similarly bound for decomposition; The body lives bound to the soul; like a transitory bubble, the spirit clothes itself in the body. The bubble bursts without leaving a trace of our exit. Our memory remains on steles, tombstones and epitaphs, but these also disappear eventually. Do not be exalted, as the apostle said, “but fear” (Rom. 11:20), lest the harsh lawgiver make you the first victim of the cruelty you practice. Do you flee, tell me, from the one who is sick? What repels you? That he has a weakness characterized by oozing of the rotten humors and blood infected by pus, followed by a flow of bile? For this is the medical explanation. Is it the sick person's fault if the frail fabric of his (p.204) sickly nature exposes itself in these unfortunate ways? Don't you see the healthy person suffering with a boil, a pimple, or other irritations of this sort, of similar purulent inflammations that overheat and redden the skin? What then? Does the rest of the body energetically destroy itself? Just the opposite: all the healthy parts act together to resorb the place of infection. This kind of suffering is not nauseating. Our healthy skin does not interfere with the [484] healing of the abscess. So why send these unfortunates away from us? This is why: no one fears the pronouncement, “Go, far from me, into the eternal fire. Of those whom you have given no aid, it is me you have failed to help.” If we believed this, we would change our attitude toward the unfortunates; we would go back to them, without any trace of repugnance over caring for their illness. But if we have faith in the promise of God, it is our duty to obey these commandments: only our willingness can assure us of God's promised good will. Stranger, naked, hungry, sick, prisoner; this person carries all the misfortunes the gospel describes. He lives naked, without roof, and the addition of illness reduces him to the most tragic penury. He possesses nothing and has no power to get out of his suffering and provide for his life. He is a prisoner, chained by the illness. You have here the means by which to fulfill the whole law, rendering to the Lord all the things he demands if you show philanthropy to this person. Why then seek your own destruction? For God makes a home for those faithful to his law but deserts the hard‐hearted. “Carry my yoke”; (Matt. 11:29) it is called yoke, obedience to the law.

Let us respond now to this summons: become Christ's beast of burden, strap on charity, and do not shake off this soft and gentle yoke that does not chafe the neck but rather caresses it. “Let us sow blessings in order to also reap blessings” (2 Cor. 9:6). This seed will yield a plentiful harvest. The crop of the Lord's law is abundant. The fruits of blessing are high indeed. Do you know how far they pile up? To the apex of heaven. All the good deeds that you have done

Page 24 of 29

will reap celestial fruit. Don't despair as a result of this saying, nor say that it is despicable to have a friendship with these people. The hand is mutilated but it is not insensitive to assistance. The foot is gangrenous but always able to run to God; the eye is missing, but it discerns invisible goodness nonetheless, to the enlightenment of the soul. Don't despise their misshapen body; yet a little while and you will contemplate a vision more astonishing than a complete miracle. Our frail nature is not prone to long‐term endurance. As soon as there is no more weaving to be done on the corruptible and terrestrial body, the soul, delivered, will manifest its interior beauty. To that rich man of luxury, the life‐giving hand of the poor man was not loathsome, but [485] he expressed a desire that the formerly purulent fingers of the poor man might procure for him a drop of water, wanting to lick the wet thumb of the poor man with his tongue. He would not have had to wish this if he had known enough to perceive the soul beyond the ugliness of the body. Once in the afterlife, what vain regrets take hold of the rich man? How he ought to proclaim the poor blessed for his bad lot here below? How he ought to accuse his own people, those vowed to wealth to the detriment of the soul? If he had the chance to live his life over, which character do you think he would play? That of a grand overlord or that of the oppressed? To all appearances, it is not uncertain that he would prefer the lot of the unfortunate. For he wishes that a beacon be sent [to warn] the brothers about this fate, so that they would give up this delusion of vain riches and temptation to a love of comfort and not slide down the slope (p.205) of pleasure, rolling uncontrollably into the infernal shadows. What do you think? Are we never going to learn the lesson of these accounts? Do we refuse the fair deal that our companion, the godly apostle, offers us: Your overabundance provides for their deficit so that the abundance of the needy in what pertains to this life might provide for your salvation? (2 Cor. 8:14) If we wish to find our profit here, we should practice this with foresight. If we desire to take this blessing up, let us give relief right now. If we want to be received by them in the eternal places, let us receive them now. If we wish to heal the wounds by which our sins have afflicted us, heal today the ulcers that break down their flesh. “Blessed are the merciful, for they will obtain mercy” (Matt. 5:7).

But perhaps you will disagree with me that the commandments can be well trusted, and [you say that] these days it is important to avoid the risk of contagion. You imagine that therefore you escape involuntary ills by fleeing sicknesses. These words are made‐up excuses by which you conceal your scorn for divine wishes. And they are not true. There is nothing to fear when one is following the commandment. Don't treat evil with evil. How often we see people who have devoted their lives to the sick from their youth to their old age, without their health being in the least affected. Nothing happens to them. Certain illnesses, such as the plagues, do have an external cause and can be traced to pestilence in the air or water, with suspected transmission from the afflicted to those who approach them — (Personally I do not believe it can

Page 25 of 29

possibly be passed on from the afflicted to those who are healthy, but that common factors contribute and bring on the illness similarly in everyone)31 — that the sickness is to blame as it goes out from those who have been affected and into the rest. But it is only in the interior [488] that the illness develops, invading the blood by putrid humors that infect it, and the infection does not leave the sick person. This hypothesis is confirmed by the following proof: Is there anyone indeed among the strong whose health deteriorates by association with the sick, even if they are in extremely close contact while providing medical care? No; this does not happen. Indeed, the opposite is more likely, I say: that illness cannot even be transmitted from the sick to those who are healthy. In thus preparing for the kingdom of heaven, there is no [danger of] harm to the body of the one who serves. So why do you still hold back from applying the commandment of love?

But, you say, it is hard to master the loathing that most people naturally feel in the face of the sick. Truly, I am of your opinion: it is hard. But am I saying that if it is a worthy project, there will be no effort? God's law commanded much sweat and toil for the hope of heaven and He teaches humankind — by the harder tasks and harshness of constraining circumstances on all sides — that the way to life is difficult. For it is said, “Narrow and restricted is the way that leads to life” (Matt. 7:14). What then? Will we give up hope of blessing because it is incompatible with comfort? Let us ask the young people whether wisdom by effort does not seem to them more difficult than shameless abandonment to pleasures. Are we, with so much at stake, going to choose the pleasant, smooth path and beat a retreat in the face of the steep path of virtue? This decision offends the legislator who has forbidden us during our (p.206) life to take the smooth road, easy and spacious. “Enter,” he says, “by the restricted, narrow door.” Let us put our efforts into the exercise of the precepts that our lives so ignore: curing the natural aversion of the healthy by the persevering exercise of care for the sick. For hard exercise has a surprising effect even on the most difficult people, in that it creates a long‐term sense of enjoyment. Let no one say this is laborious duty, for it is useful to those who perform it. In time we will change and laborious effort will become sweet. If I must make it even more clear, sympathy toward the unfortunate is, in this life, profitable for the healthy. For it is beautiful32 for the soul to provide mercy to others who have fallen on misfortune. For all humanity is governed by a single nature, and no one possesses any guarantee of continual happiness. We ought never to forget the gospel [489] precept that we treat others as we wish others to treat us. Insofar as you sail on tranquil waters, hold the hand of the unfortunate who have suffered shipwreck. You all sail on the same sea, prone to waves and tempests: and reefs, underwater breakwaters and other dangers of the ocean evoke the same apprehension in all sailors. Insofar as you are floating, healthy and safe, on the calm sea of life, do not arrogantly pass by those who have shipwrecked their vessel on the reefs. What assurance do you have of always following your way on

Page 26 of 29

tranquil waters? You have not yet arrived at the safe port; you have not yet been dragged from the waves, you have not yet reached the shore; throughout your life you remain on the water. Your attitudes toward the unlucky person will determine the conduct of your fellow sailors toward you, yourself. Let us all go forward to attain the port of our rest and desire that the Holy Spirit grant us a serene haven at the end of our journey! Execute God's orders; let us conduct ourselves by the precept of love; guided in this way, let us go up and navigate [the way] to the promised land where the great city stands, whose architect and builder is our God, to whom be glory and power from age to age. Amen.

Notes: (1.) Or, “Why, you ask, is the sermon hastening on so slowly?”

(2.) Lit., “confusion,” σύγχυσις, but implying disordered mixtures.

(3.) ευ'εργεσία.

(4.) ἀκοινώτητος; the same word is used in church discipline for “excommunicate”; here, the communal distance is a deliberate choice of the miser, and Basil's use of the word here seems to imply that in ignoring the poor the rich person is excommunicating himself (or herself), not the poor person, from community life. He uses the same word again with the same meaning in 8.7 [324B].

(5.) ἐστενωμένον; it is difficult to illustrate Basil's word plays in many of these parallel images. Here he is punning on στείνω (straighten, narrow, confine) and στίνω (grieve, mourn).

(6.) παίζεται: the allusion to childish behavior seems an intended pun.

(7.) πόρος: “achieving a passage through,” “obtaining resources,” “a ferry or path of the sea”; here the sense implies that giving wealth as alms is the only way to “take it with you” to the afterlife.

(8.) Lit., “yellow;” Basil seems here to be broadly pointing to himself, inviting the congregation to let him take care of them if they will give him charge of their stockpiled wealth. References to his poor health sometimes allude to his liver, so that possibly he bore a slightly jaundiced appearance, and Gregory of Nyssa (Laud. Bas. 17) calls Basil “our Elijah” on account of his famine relief.

(9.) δη̑μος.

(10.) Lit., “spiritual men.”

(11.) Or “in the face of public peril, do not be preferential to your personal misfortune.”

Page 27 of 29

(12.) Lit., “earnest money,” a collateral deposit.

(13.) Josephus, BJ 7.8.

(14.) τροφεὺς πρωτοστάτης.

(15.) ἀκοινωνητός, the same word used in church discipline for “excommunicate.”

(16.) νόμος φιλάνθρωπος.

(17.) Lit., “more manly.”

(18.) Lit., “the other ptōchoi,” here moving into his discussion of the sick. The remainder of the treatise and most of the second treatise seems to concern these sick poor in particular.

(19.) Lit., “The sick penēs is twice ptōchos.”

(20.) λειτουργός.

(21.) πρόσωπον.

(22.) μισοπτώχοι.

(23.) I.e., on coinage.

(24.) Here and again in the opening lines of the second sermon, Gregory refers to the “vision” of the last judgment in Matthew 25 as if he is alluding to some literally visual, rather than textual image. It is very tempting to wonder if he might be referring to a scene actually painted on the church wall, one to which he could point and which listeners could study as he spoke.

(25.) εὐποιία.

(26.) The first reference in these two sermons to the disease of “leprosy” and its biblical model.

(27.) Acts 17:28.

(28.) The French adds the question, present in the Latin text but not in the Greek, “What is the expression of one who has no face?”

(29.) παθαίνεσθαι, to sing a song or psalm of pathos.

(30.) Wisdom of Solomon 7:6.

(31.) The parentheses here are in the Greek text.

Page 28 of 29

(32.) This thought is reminiscent of the opening paragraphs of Gregory of Nazianzus's Or. 14, where he lists the virtues that are kalos.

Access brought to you by:

Page 29 of 29