Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew — Homily 59

One of Chrysostom’s 90 homilies on the Gospel of Matthew, preached at Antioch.

Source: Translated by George Prevost and revised by M.B. Riddle. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series , Vol. 10. Edited by Philip Schaff. ( Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888. ) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/200159.htm>.

Opening

Matthew 18:7.

Matt. XVIII. 7.

Woe to the world because of offenses, for it is necessary that offenses come; but woe to that person through whom the offense comes.

Woe unto the world because of offenses: for it must needs be that offenses come: but woe to that man by whom the offense comes.

And if "it must needs be that offenses come" (one of our opponents might perhaps say), why does He lament over the world when He ought instead to provide help and extend His hand on its behalf? For this would be the role of a physician and protector, whereas the other might be expected even from any ordinary person.

And if 'it must needs be that offenses come,' (some one of our adversaries may perchance say), why does He lament over the world, when He ought rather to afford succor, and to stretch forth His hand in its behalf? For this were the part of a physician, and a protector, whereas the other might be looked for even from any ordinary person.

What could we possibly say in response to such a shameless statement? What healing care could you seek that would be equal to this? For indeed, being God He became man for you, and took the form of a slave, and endured all extremities, and left undone none of those things which it was necessary for Him to do. But since ungrateful people were not made any better by this, He laments over them, because after so much loving care they remained in their sickness.

What then could we possibly say, in answer to so shameless a tongue? Nay what do you seek for equal to this healing care of His? For indeed being God He became man for you, and took the form of a slave, and underwent all extremities, and left undone none of those things which it concerned Him to do. But inasmuch as unthankful men were nothing the better for this, He laments over them, for that after so much fostering care they continued in their unsoundness.

It was as if someone were lamenting over a sick person who had received much care but had been unwilling to obey the doctor's instructions, saying, "Woe to such a person because of his illness, which he has made worse through his own negligence." But in that case, the lamenting brings no benefit, whereas here even this is a kind of healing treatment—to foretell what would happen and to lament over it. For many people, though they gained nothing when they were advised, nevertheless changed their ways when they were mourned over.

It was like as if over the sick man, that had had the advantage of much attendance, and who had not been willing to obey the rules of the physician, any one were to lament and say, Woe to such a man from his infirmity, which he has increased by his own remissness. But in that case indeed there is no advantage from the bewailing, but here this too is a kind of healing treatment to foretell what would be, and to lament it. For many oftentimes, though, when advised, they were nothing profited, yet, when mourned for, they amended.

For this reason especially He used the word "Woe"—to thoroughly rouse them, to make them serious, and to urge them to be alert. At the same time He demonstrates the goodwill He had toward these very people and His own gentleness, in that He mourns for them even when they contradict Him. He does not simply express disgust at this, but corrects them both with mourning and with prophecy, in order to win them over.

For which reason most of all He used the word Woe, thoroughly to rouse them, and to make them in earnest, and to work upon them to be wakeful. And at the same time He shows forth the good will He had towards those very men and His own mildness, that He mourns for them even when gainsaying, not taking mere disgust at it, but correcting them, both with the mourning, and with the prediction, so as to win them over.

But how is this possible, someone might ask? For if offenses must necessarily come, how is it possible to escape them? The answer is that while the offenses must indeed come, it is not absolutely necessary that people perish. It's like a physician saying (and nothing prevents us from using the same illustration again): this disease must necessarily come upon someone, but it is not a necessary consequence that the person who takes care will inevitably be destroyed by the disease. And He said this, as I mentioned, to awaken His disciples along with the others. For lest they grow complacent, as if they were being sent into peace and an untroubled life, He shows them that many wars are coming upon them, from outside and from within. Paul declared this when he said, "Outside were fightings, inside were fears," and "In perils among false brethren," and in his address to the Milesians he also said, "Even from among you some will arise speaking perverse things," and He Himself also said, "A man's foes shall be those of his own household." But when He said "it must needs be," He is not taking away their power to choose for themselves, nor their freedom of moral principle, nor is He placing human life under any absolute constraint of circumstances. Rather, He is foretelling what would surely happen. And this Luke has expressed in a different form, saying, "It is impossible but that offenses should come."

But how is this possible? He may say. For if it must needs be that offenses come, how is it possible to escape these? Because that the offenses come indeed must needs be, but that men should perish is not altogether of necessity. Like as though a physician should say (for nothing hinders our using the same illustration again), it must needs be that this disease should come on, but it is not a necessary consequence that he who gives heed should be of course destroyed by the disease. And this He said, as I mentioned, to awaken together with the others His disciples. For that they may not slumber, as sent unto peace and unto untroubled life, He shows many wars close upon them, from without, from within. Declaring this, Paul said, Without were fightings, within were fears; 2 Corinthians 7:5 and, In perils among false brethren; 2 Corinthians 11:26 and in his discourse to the Milesians too He said, Also of you shall some arise speaking perverse things; Acts 20:30 and He Himself too said, The man's foes shall be they of his own household. Matthew 10:36 But when He said, It must needs be, it is not as taking away the power of choosing for themselves, nor the freedom of the moral principle, nor as placing man's life under any absolute constraint of circumstances, that He says these things, but He foretells what would surely be; and this Luke has set forth in another form of expression, It is impossible but that offenses should come. Luke 17:1

But what are the offenses? They are the obstacles on the right path. This is the same term used by people in the theater to describe those who are skilled in such matters—those who contort their bodies.

But what are the offenses? The hindrances on the right way. Thus also do those on the stage call them that are skilled in those matters, them that distort their bodies.

It is not His prediction that causes the offenses to happen—far from it. Neither does it happen because He foretold it. Rather, because it was certainly going to happen, He foretold it. If those who bring in the offenses had not intended to do evil, the offenses would not have come. And if they were not going to come, they would not have been foretold. But because those men did evil and were incurably diseased, the offenses came, and He foretells what is going to be.

It is not then His prediction that brings the offenses; far from it; neither because He foretold it, therefore does it take place; but because it surely was to be, therefore He foretold it; since if those who bring in the offenses had not been minded to do wickedly, neither would the offenses have come; and if they had not been to come, neither would they have been foretold. But because those men did evil, and were incurably diseased, the offenses came, and He foretells that which is to be.

But someone might say, if these men had stayed on the right path and no one had brought in an offense, wouldn't this statement have been proven false? Not at all, because it wouldn't have been spoken in the first place. For if everyone were going to stay on the right path, He would not have said that the offenses must necessarily come. Rather, because He knew in advance that they would be incorrigible of their own accord, He therefore said that the offenses will surely come.

But if these men had been kept right, it may be said, and there had been no one to bring in an offense, would not this saying have been convicted of falsehood? By no means, for neither would it have been spoken. For if all were to have been kept right, He would not have said, it must needs be that they come, but because He foreknew they would be of themselves incorrigible, therefore He said, the offenses will surely come.

And why didn't He remove them from the scene? someone might ask. Well, why should they have been removed? For the sake of those who are hurt? But the ruin of those who are hurt doesn't come from these offenses, but from their own laziness. The virtuous prove this, for far from being injured by such offenses, they actually benefit greatly from them—people like Job, like Joseph, like all the righteous, and the apostles. But if many perish, it's because of their own spiritual drowsiness. If it weren't so—if the ruin were actually caused by the offenses themselves—then everyone would have perished. And if there are those who escape, let the one who doesn't escape blame himself. For offenses, as I've said, awaken and make more alert and sharper not only the person who is preserved, but even the person who has fallen into them, if he gets up again quickly, since they make him safer and harder to overcome. So if we are watchful, we gain no small benefit from this—namely, to be continually awake. For if we sleep even when we have enemies and so many dangers pressing upon us, what would we be like if we were living in security? In fact, if you will, look at the first man. For if, having lived in paradise a short time—perhaps not even a whole day—and having enjoyed delights, he descended to such a degree of wickedness as even to imagine equality with God, and to consider the deceiver a benefactor, and not to keep to one commandment—if he had lived the rest of his life also without affliction, what wouldn't he have done?

And wherefore did He not take them out of the way? It may be said. Why, wherefore should they have been taken out of the way? For the sake of them that are hurt? But not thence is the ruin of them that are hurt, but from their own remissness. And the virtuous prove it, who, so far from being injured thereby, are even in the greatest degree profited, such as was Job, such as was Joseph, such as were all the righteous, and the apostles. But if many perish, it is from their own slumbering. But if it were not so, but the ruin was the effect of the offenses, all must have perished. And if there are those who escape, let him who does not escape impute it to himself. For the offenses, as I have said, awaken, and render more quick-sighted, and sharper, not only him that is preserved; but even him that has fallen into them, if he rise up again quickly, for they render him more safe, and make him more difficult to overcome; so that if we be watchful, no small profit do we reap from hence, even to be continually awake. For if when we have enemies, and when so many dangers are pressing upon us, we sleep, what should we be if living in security. Nay, if you will, look at the first man. For if having lived in paradise a short time, perchance not so much as a whole day, and having enjoyed delights, he drove on to such a pitch of wickedness, as even to imagine an equality with God, and to account the deceiver a benefactor, and not to keep to one commandment; if he had lived the rest of his life also without affliction, what would he not have done?

But when we say these things, they raise other objections, asking, "And why did God make him such?" God did not make him such—far from it—since then He would not have punished him. For if we, in those matters where we are the cause, do not find fault with our servant, how much more will the God of all not do so. But how did this come to pass, one may ask? From himself and his own remissness. What does "from himself" mean? Ask yourself. For if the bad are not bad of themselves, then do not punish your servant, nor reprove your wife for whatever errors she may commit, neither beat your son, nor blame your friend, nor hate your enemy who wrongs you—for all these deserve to be pitied, not punished, unless they offend of themselves. But I am not able to practice self-restraint, one may say. And yet, when you perceive the cause to be not with them but from another necessity, you can practice self-restraint. When a servant, being taken with sickness, does not do the things commanded him, so far from blaming him you rather excuse him. Thus you are a witness that the one thing is of oneself, the other not of oneself. So here too, if you knew that he was wicked from being born such, so far from blaming, you would rather have shown him indulgence. For surely, when you make allowance for his illness, you could not refuse to make allowance for God's act of creation, if indeed he had been made such from the very first.

2. But when we say these things, they make other objections again, asking, And why did God make him such? God did not make him such, far from it, since then neither would He have punished him. For if we in those matters in which we are the cause, do not find fault with our servant, much more will not the God of all. But whence did this come to pass? one may say. Of himself and his own remissness. What means, of himself? Ask yourself. For if it be not of themselves the bad are bad, do not punish your servant nor reprove your wife for what errors she may commit, neither beat your son, nor blame your friend, nor hate your enemy that does despite to you: for all these deserve to be pitied, not to be punished, unless they offend of themselves. But I am not able to practise self-restraint, one may say. And yet, when you perceive the cause not to be with them, but of another necessity, you can practise self-restraint. When at least a servant being taken with sickness does not the things enjoined him, so far from blaming thou dost rather excuse him. Thus you are a witness, that the one thing is of one's self, the other not of one's self. So that here too, if you knew that he was wicked from being born such, so far from blaming, you would rather have shown him indulgence. For surely, when you make him allowance for his illness, it could not be that you would have refused to make allowance for God's act of creation, if indeed he had been made such from the very first.

And there's another way to silence such people, for the power of truth is abundantly great. Why do you never blame your servant for not having a handsome face, for not having a fine physique, for not being able to fly? Because these things are natural. So he is cleared of blame regarding his physis, and no one disputes this. Therefore, when you do blame him, you demonstrate that the fault is not of physis but of his choice. For if in those things we do not blame, we acknowledge that everything is of physis, it is clear that where we reprove, we declare that the offense is of the choice.

And in another way too it is easy to stop the mouths of such men, for great is the abounding power of the truth. For wherefore do you never find fault with your servant, because he is not of a beautiful countenance, that he is not of fine stature in his body, that he is not able to fly? Because these things are natural. So then from blame against his nature he is acquitted, and no man gainsays it. When therefore you blame, you show that the fault is not of nature but of his choice. For if in those things, which we do not blame, we bear witness that the whole is of nature, it is evident that where we reprove, we declare that the offense is of the choice.

Do not bring forward, I beg you, perverse arguments or sophistries and webs flimsier than the spider's, but answer me this again: Did God make all people? This is surely clear to everyone. How then are not all people equal with respect to virtue and vice? Where do the good, gentle, and meek come from? Where do the worthless and evil come from? For if these things do not require any purposeful choice, but are matters of nature, how are some people one way and others another? For if all were bad by nature, it would not be possible for anyone to be good, but if good by nature, then no one could be bad. For if there were one physis of all people, they would necessarily all be the same in this respect, whether they were going to be one way or the other.

Do not then bring forward, I beseech you, perverse reasonings, neither sophistries and webs slighter than the spider's, but answer me this again: Did God make all men? It is surely plain to every man. How then are not all equal in respect of virtue and vice? Whence are the good, and gentle, and meek? Whence are the worthless and evil? For if these things do not require any purpose, but are of nature, how are the one this, the others that? For if by nature all were bad, it were not possible for any one to be good, but if good by nature, then no one bad. For if there were one nature of all men, they must needs in this respect be all one, whether they were to be this, or whether they were to be that.

But if we were to say that some people are good by nature and others bad by nature—which would not be reasonable, as we have shown—then these traits would have to be unchangeable, since the things of nature (physis) are unchangeable. Consider this: all human beings are also subject to suffering, and no one is free from suffering, no matter how hard they try. But in reality we see many good people becoming worthless, and many worthless people becoming good—the former through carelessness, the latter through diligence. This above all shows that these things do not come from nature (physis).

But if we should say that by nature the one are good, the other bad, which would not be reasonable (as we have shown), these things must be unchangeable, for the things of nature are unchangeable. Nay, mark. All mortals are also liable to suffering; and no one is free from suffering, though he strive without end. But now we see of good many becoming worthless, and of worthless good, the one through remissness, the other by earnestness; which thing most of all indicates that these things do not come of nature.

For the things of nature are neither changed, nor do they require effort to acquire. Just as we do not need labor for seeing and hearing, so we would not need toil for virtue if it had been assigned by nature.

For the things of nature are neither changed, nor do they need diligence for their acquisition. For like as for seeing and hearing we do not need labor, so neither should we need toils in virtue, if it had been apportioned by nature.

But why did God create worthless people at all, when He could have made everyone good? "So where do evil things come from?" you ask. Ask yourself this question; my job is to show that they do not come from physis, nor from God.

But wherefore did He at all make worthless men, when He might have made all men good? Whence then are the evil things? says he. Ask yourself; for it is my part to show they are not of nature, nor from God.

Do evil things come from themselves, then? he asks. Not at all. But are they without origin? Speak reverently, O man, and recoil from this madness—you would be honoring God and evil things with one honor, and that the highest honor. For if evil things are without origin, they are mighty and cannot be uprooted or pass into annihilation. For surely it is obvious to everyone that what is without origin is imperishable.

Come they then of themselves? he says. By no means. But are they unoriginated? Speak reverently, O man, and start back from this madness, honoring with one honor God and the evil things, and that honor the highest. For if they be unoriginate they are mighty, and cannot so much as be plucked up, nor pass into annihilation. For that what is unoriginate is imperishable, is surely manifest to all.

And where do so many good things come from, if evil has such great power? How can things that have a beginning be stronger than what is unoriginate?

3. And whence also are there so many good, when evil has such great power? How are they that have an origin stronger than that which is unoriginate?

But God destroys these things, he says. When? And how will He destroy what are of equal honor and of equal strength and, one might say, of the same age as Himself?

But God destroys these things, he says. When? And how will He destroy what are of equal honor, and of equal strength, and of the same age, as one might say, with Himself?

Oh, the devil's malice! What a great evil he has invented! What blasphemy has he persuaded people to heap upon God! What cloak of godliness has he used to devise another profane teaching? For in their desire to show that evil did not come from God, they introduced another evil doctrine, saying that these things are unoriginate.

Oh malice of the devil! How great an evil has he invented! With what blasphemy has he persuaded men to surround God! With what cloak of godliness has he devised another profane account? For desiring to show, that not of Him was the evil, they brought in another evil doctrine, saying, that these things are unoriginate.

Where do evils come from, someone might ask? From willing and not willing. But the very fact of our willing and not willing—where does that come from? From ourselves. But you are doing the same thing in asking this as if you had asked, where does seeing and not seeing come from? Then when I said, from closing the eyes or not closing them, you were to ask again: the very closing of the eyes or not—where does that come from? Then having heard that it was from ourselves and our will, you were to seek yet another cause.

Whence then are evils? one may say. From willing and not willing. But the very thing of our willing and not willing, whence is it? From ourselves. But thou dost the same in asking, as if when you had asked, whence is seeing and not seeing? Then when I said, from closing the eyes or not closing the eyes, thou were to ask again; the very closing the eyes or not, whence is it? Then having heard that it was of ourselves, and our will, thou were to seek again another cause.

Evil is nothing other than disobedience to God. So someone may ask, where did man discover this? Was it difficult to find it? I ask you. No, I'm not saying that this thing is hard to find. Rather, the question is: where did man's desire to disobey come from? From carelessness. Having the power to choose either option, he leaned more toward this one.

For evil is nothing else than disobedience to God. Whence then, one may say, did man find this? Why, was it a task to find this? I pray you. Nay, neither do I say this, that this thing is difficult; but whence became he desirous to disobey. From remissness. For having power for either, he inclined rather to this.

But if you're still confused and overwhelmed by this, I won't ask you anything difficult or complicated, just a simple and straightforward question. Have you ever become bad? And have you also at some point become good? What I mean is this: Have you sometimes overcome a passion, and then been overcome by that passion again? Have you been overtaken by drunkenness, and then overcome drunkenness? Were you once moved to anger, and then later not moved to anger? Did you once ignore a poor person, and then not ignore him? Did you commit sexual immorality once, and then become chaste again? Where do all these things come from? Tell me, where? But if you won't tell me yourself, I will. It's because at one time you restrained yourself and made an effort, but afterward you became lax and careless. I won't even speak about self-restraint to those who are in despair, who are continually in wickedness, who are in a state of senselessness, who are mad, and who aren't even willing to hear what would correct them. But I will gladly speak to those who have sometimes been in one state and sometimes in the other. Did you once take by force things that didn't belong to you, and then afterward, moved by pity, give even from your own possessions to someone in need? Where does this change come from? Isn't it completely clear that it comes from the mind and the choice of the will?

But if you are perplexed yet and dizzy at hearing this, I will ask you nothing difficult nor involved, but a simple and plain question. Have you become some time bad? And have you become some time also good? What I mean, is like this. Did you prevail some time over passion, and were you taken again by passion? Have you been overtaken by drunkenness, and have you prevailed over drunkenness? Were you once moved to wrath, and again not moved to wrath? Did you overlook a poor man, and not overlook him? Did you commit whoredom once? And did you become chaste again? Whence then are all these things? Tell me, whence? Nay if you yourself do not tell, I will say. Because at one time you restrained yourself and strove, but after that you became remiss and careless. For to those that are desperate, and are continually in wickedness, and are in a state of senselessness, and are mad, and who are not willing so much as to hear what will amend them, I will not even discourse of self restraint; but to them that have been sometimes in the one, and sometimes in the other, I will gladly speak. Did you once take by violence the things that belonged not to you; and after this, subdued by pity, imparted even of your own unto him that was in need? Whence then this change? Is it not quite plain it is from the mind, and the choice of will?

This is completely clear, and everyone would agree with it. So I urge you to be serious and hold fast to virtue, and you will have no need of these questions. For our evils are just names, if we are willing. Don't ask where evils come from, and don't trouble yourself about it. Instead, having discovered that they come only from laziness, flee from evil actions.

It is quite plain, and there is no one who would not say this. Wherefore I entreat you to be in earnest, and to cleave to virtue, and you will have no need of these questions. For our evils are mere names, if we be willing. Inquire not then whence are evils, neither perplex yourself; but having found that they are from remissness only, flee the evil deeds.

And if anyone should say that these things do not come from us, whenever you see him angry with his servants and provoked with his wife and blaming a child and condemning those who injure him, say to him: How then did you say that evils do not come from us? For if they are not from us, why do you find fault? Say again: Is it of yourself that you revile and insult? For if it is not of yourself, let no one be angry with you; but if it is of yourself, then of yourself and of your remissness are your evil deeds.

And if any one should say, that these things come not from us; whenever you see him angry with his servants, and provoked with his wife, and blaming a child, and condemning them who injure him, say to him, how then did you say, that evils come not from us? For if they be not from us, wherefore do you find fault? Say again; is it of yourself you revile, and insultest? For if it be not of yourself, let no man be angry with you; but if it be of yourself, of yourself and of your remissness are your evil deeds.

But what about this? Do you think there are some good men? If indeed no man is good, where did you get this word? Where do praises come from? But if there are good men, it is quite clear that they will also reprove the bad. Yet if no one is voluntarily wicked, nor acts of himself, the good will be found to be unjustly reproving the bad, and they themselves will in this way be bad again. For what can be worse than to subject the guiltless to accusations? But if they remain good men in our estimation, though they reprove, and this especially is a proof of their goodness, then even to the very fools it is plain from this that no one is ever bad by necessity.

But what? Do you think there are some good men? For if indeed no man is good, whence have you this word? Whence are praises? But if there are good men, it is quite plain that they will also reprove the bad. Yet if no one is voluntarily wicked, nor of himself, the good will be found to be unjustly reproving the bad, and they themselves too will be in this way bad again. For what can be worse than to subject the guiltless to accusations? But if they continue in our estimation good men, though reproving, and this especially is a proof of their goodness, even to the very fools it is hereby plain, that no one is ever by necessity bad.

But if after all this you still want to ask where evils come from, I would say they come from negligence, from laziness, from associating with bad people, and from despising virtue. That is the source both of evils themselves and of the fact that some people ask where evils come from. For surely no one who does what is right asks these questions—no one who is determined to live fairly and with self-control. Rather, those who dare to commit wicked acts and want to create some foolish comfort for themselves through these arguments are weaving spiders' webs.

But if after all this you would still inquire, whence are evils? I would say, from remissness, from idleness, from keeping company with the bad, from contempt of virtue; hence are both the evils themselves, and the fact that some inquire, whence are the evils. Since of them surely who do right no one inquires about these things, of them that are purposed to live equitably and temperately; but they, who dare to commit wicked acts, and wish to devise some foolish comfort to themselves by these discussions, do weave spiders' webs.

But let us refute these arguments not only with our words, but also with our actions. For these things do not happen by necessity. For if they happened by necessity, He would not have said, "Woe to the man by whom the offense comes." For He only laments those who are wicked by their own choice.

But let us tear these in pieces not by our words only, but by our deeds too. For neither are these things of necessity. For if they were of necessity, He would not have said, Woe to the man, by whom the offense comes. Matthew 18:7 For those only does he bewail, who are wicked by their choice.

And if He says "by whom," don't be surprised. For He does not say this as though someone else were bringing it in through him, but viewing him as himself causing the whole thing. For Scripture is accustomed to say "by whom" in place of "of whom"; as when it says, "I have gotten a man by God," putting not the secondary cause, but the first; and again, "Is not the interpretation of them by God," and "God is faithful, by whom you are called unto the fellowship of His Son."

And if He says by whom, marvel not. For not as though another were bringing in it by him, does He say this, but viewing him as himself causing the whole. For the Scripture is wont to say, by whom, for of whom; as when it says, I have gotten a man by God, putting not the second cause, but the first; and again, Is not the interpretation of them by God, Genesis 40:8 and, God is faithful, by whom you are called unto the fellowship of His Son. 1 Corinthians 1:9

And to help you understand that it is not a matter of necessity, listen also to what follows. For after lamenting over them, He says, "If your hand or your foot offends you, cut them off and cast them from you, for it is better for you to enter into life lame or maimed rather than having two hands or feet to be cast into the fire. And if your right eye offends you, pluck it out; it is better for you to enter into life with one eye than having two eyes to be cast into the furnace of fire." He is not speaking here about bodily limbs—far from it—but about friends and relatives whom we value as much as essential body parts. He said this earlier and now says it again. For nothing is as harmful as bad company. For friendship can often accomplish things—both for harm and for good—that compulsion cannot. Therefore He commands us with great earnestness to cut off those who harm us, meaning those who bring about the offenses.

4. And that you may learn that it is not of necessity, hear also what follows. For after bewailing them, He says, If your hand, or your foot offend you, cut them off, and cast them from you: for it is better for you to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or feet to be cast into the fire. And if your right eye offend you, pluck it out; it is better for you to enter into life with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into the furnace of fire; not saying these things of limbs; far from it; but of friends, of relations, whom we regard in the rank of necessary members. This He had both said further back, and now He says it. For nothing is so hurtful as bad company. For what things compulsion cannot, friendship can often effect, both for hurt, and for profit. Wherefore with much earnestness He commands us to cut off them that hurt us, intimating these that bring the offenses.

Do you see how He has removed the harm that would come from the offenses? He foretold that there will certainly be offenses so that no one would be found careless, but that people, expecting them, might be watchful. He showed that the evils are great—for He would not have said without reason, "Woe to the world because of the offenses," but to show that great is the harm from them. He lamented again in even stronger terms over the one who brings them in. For the saying, "But woe to that man," came from one showing that the punishment was great, and not only this, but He also increased the fear by the comparison He added.

Do you see how He has put away the mischief that would result from the offenses? By foretelling that there surely will be offenses, so that they might find no one in a state of carelessness, but that looking for them men might be watchful. By showing the evils to be great (for He would not have said without purpose, Woe to the world because of the offenses, but to show that great is the mischief therefrom), by lamenting again in stronger terms over him that brings them in. For the saying, But woe to that man, was that of one showing that great was the punishment, but not this only, but also by the comparison which He added He increased the fear.

Then He is not satisfied with these things, but He also shows the way by which one may avoid the offenses.

Then He is not satisfied with these things, but He shows also the way, by which one may avoid the offenses.

But what is this? He says that even if the wicked are extremely dear friends to you, cut them off from your friendship.

But what is this? The wicked, says He, though they be exceeding dear friends to you, cut off from your friendship.

And He gives a reason that cannot be disputed. For if they remain friends, you will not gain them, but you will lose yourself as well. But if you cut them off, at least you will gain your own salvation. So if anyone's friendship harms you, cut it off from you. For if we often cut off many of our own bodily members when they are in an incurable state and are ruining the rest, much more ought we to do this in the case of friends.

And He gives a reason that cannot be gainsaid. For if they continue friends, you will not gain them, but you will lose yourself besides; but if you should cut them off, your own salvation at least you will gain. So that if any one's friendship harms you, cut it off from you. For if of our own members we often cut off many, when they are both in an incurable state, and are ruining the rest, much more ought one to do this in the case of friends.

But if evils existed by nature (physis), then all this warning and advice would be unnecessary, and the precaution taken through the means that have been mentioned would be pointless. But since it is not unnecessary—and it certainly is not unnecessary—it is completely clear that wickedness comes from the will.

But if evils were by nature, superfluous were all this admonition and advice, superfluous the precaution by the means that have been mentioned. But if it be not superfluous, as surely it is not superfluous, it is quite clear that wickedness is of the will.

Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I tell you that their angels always see the face of my Father who is in Heaven.

Take heed that you despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, that their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in Heaven.

He does not call "little ones" those who are actually small, but those whom the crowd considers to be small—the poor, the despised, the unknown. For how could anyone be little who is equal in value to the whole world? How could anyone be little who is dear to God? Rather, he means those who are considered small in the minds of the majority.

He calls little ones not them that are really little, but them that are so esteemed by the multitude, the poor, the objects of contempt, the unknown (for how should he be little who is equal in value to the whole world; how should he be little, who is dear to God?); but them who in the imagination of the multitude are so esteemed.

He speaks not only of many, but even of one, by this again preventing the harm from many offenses. For just as fleeing from the wicked, so also honoring the good brings very great benefit and would provide a double security to the person who pays attention: one by cutting off friendships with those who offend, the other by regarding these saints with respect and honor.

And He speaks not of many only, but even of one, even by this again warding off the hurt of the many offenses. For even as to flee the wicked, so also to honor the good, has very great gain, and would be a twofold security to him who gives heed, the one by rooting out the friendships with them that offend, the other from regarding these saints with respect and honor.

Then in another way also He makes them objects of reverence, saying, "Their angels always behold the face of my Father which is in Heaven."

Then in another way also He makes them objects of reverence, saying, That their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in Heaven.

This makes it clear that the saints have angels, or perhaps even all people do. For the apostle also says about the woman, "She ought to have power on her head because of the angels." And Moses says, "He set the bounds of the nations according to the number of the angels of God."

Hence it is evident, that the saints have angels, or even all men. For the apostle too says of the woman, That she ought to have power on her head because of the angels. 1 Corinthians 10:10 And Moses, He set the bounds of the nations according to the number of the angels of God. Deuteronomy 32:8

But here He is not talking only about angels, but more specifically about angels who are greater than others. And when He says, "The face of my Father," He means nothing other than their greater confidence and their great honor.

But here He is discoursing not of angels only, but rather of angels that are greater than others. But when He says, The face of my Father, He means nothing else than their fuller confidence, and their great honor.

For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost.

For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost.

Once again, He gives a reason even stronger than the one before, and links it to a parable through which He shows that the Father also wants these things. For He says, "How do you think about this? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders off, doesn't he leave the ninety-nine and go into the mountains to search for the one that wandered off? And if he happens to find it, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that didn't wander off. In the same way, it is not the will of your Father that one of these little ones should perish." Matthew 18:12-14

Again, He is putting another reason stronger than the former, and connects with it a parable, by which He brings in the Father also as desiring these things. For how think ye? says He; If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, does he not leave the ninety and nine, and goes into the mountains, and seeks that which is gone astray? And if so be that he find it, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety and nine, which went not astray. Even so it is not will before your Father, that one of these little ones should perish. Matthew 18:12-14

Do you see how many reasons He gives for caring about our lowly brothers and sisters? Don't say things like, "This person is just a blacksmith, a shoemaker, a farmer, a fool," and then look down on them. To keep you from feeling this way, notice how many arguments He uses to persuade you to show restraint and to press you toward caring for these people. He placed a little child before them and said, "Be like little children." And, "Whoever receives such a little child receives me," and, "Whoever causes offense will suffer the most severe penalties." He wasn't even satisfied with the comparison of the millstone, but added His woe as well, and commanded us to cut off such people even if they are as important to us as hands and eyes. Through the angels who are assigned to these same lowly brothers and sisters, He makes them worthy of respect. He does this from His own will and passion (for when He said, "The Son of Man has come to save that which was lost," He refers even to the cross, just as Paul says when speaking of a brother, "For whom Christ died"). He does it from the Father's perspective, because it does not seem good to Him either that one should perish. And He does it from common practice, because the shepherd leaves those who are safe and searches for what is lost, and when he has found what had wandered away, he is greatly delighted at finding and saving it.

Do you see by how many things He is urging to the care of our mean brethren. Say not then, Such a one is a blacksmith, a shoemaker, he is a ploughman, he is a fool, and so despise him. For in order that you should not feel this, see by how many motives He persuades you to practise moderation, and presses you into a care for these. He set a little child, and says, Be as little children. And, Whosoever receives such a little child receives me; and, Whosoever shall offend, shall suffer the utmost penalties. And He was not even satisfied with the comparison of the millstone, but added also His woe, and commanded us to cut off such, though they be in the place of hands and eyes to us. And by the angels again that are entrusted with these same mean brethren, He makes them objects of veneration, and from His own will and passion (for when He said, The Son of Man has come to save that which was lost, He signifies even the cross, like as Paul says, speaking of a brother, For whom Christ died); and from the Father, for that neither to Him does it seem good that one should perish; and from common custom, because the shepherd leaves them that are safe, and seeks what is lost; and when he has found what had gone astray, he is greatly delighted at the finding and the saving of this.

If God rejoices in this way over the little one that is found, how can you despise those who are the objects of God's earnest care, when a person ought to give up even his very life for one of these little ones? But is he weak and mean? For this very reason, above all, one ought to do everything to preserve him. For Christ Himself left the ninety-nine sheep and went after this one, and the safety of so many did not diminish the loss of one. Luke says that He even brought it on His shoulders, and that there was greater joy over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine just persons. By forsaking those who were saved for its sake, and by taking more pleasure in this one, He showed that His earnestness about it was great.

5. If then God thus rejoices over the little one that is found, how do you despise them that are the objects of God's earnest care, when one ought to give up even one's very life for one of these little ones? But is he weak and mean? Therefore for this very cause most of all, one ought to do everything in order to preserve him. For even He Himself left the ninety and nine sheep, and went after this, and the safety of so many availed not to throw into the shade the loss of one. But Luke says, that He even brought it on his shoulders, and that There was greater joy over one sinner that repents, than over ninety and nine just persons. Luke 15:7 And from His forsaking those that were saved for it, and from His taking more pleasure in this one, He showed His earnestness about it to be great.

Let us not be careless about such souls as these, for all these things are said for this purpose. By threatening that whoever has not become a little child will not even set foot in heaven, and by speaking of the millstone, He has brought down the pride of the boastful—for nothing is so opposed to love as pride. By saying, "It must needs be that offenses come," He made them watchful. And by adding, "Woe unto him by whom the offense comes," He has caused each person to strive that it not be by him. While by commanding to cut off those who offend He made salvation easy, by commanding not to despise them—and not merely commanding, but with earnestness (for He says, "Take heed that you despise not one of these little ones")—and by saying, "Their angels behold the face of my Father," and "For this end am I come," and "My Father wills this," He has made those who should take care of them more diligent.

Let us not then be careless about such souls as these. For all these things are said for this object. For by threatening, that he who has not become a little child should not so much as at all set foot in the Heavens, and speaking of the millstone, He has brought down the haughtiness of the boastful; for nothing is so hostile to love as pride; and by saying, It must needs be that offenses come, He made them to be wakeful; and by adding, Woe unto him by whom the offense comes, He has caused each to endeavor that it be not by him. And while by commanding to cut off them that offend He made salvation easy; by enjoining not to despise them, and not merely enjoining, but with earnestness (for take heed, says He, that you despise not one of these little ones), and by saying, Their angels behold the face of my Father, and, For this end am I come, and my Father wills this, He has made those who should take care of them more diligent.

Do you see what a protective wall He has placed around them, and how earnestly He cares for those who are looked down upon and perishing? He threatens severe and incurable punishments for those who cause them to fall, promises great blessings to those who serve and care for them, and supports this by pointing to the example of both Himself and the Father.

Do you see what a wall He has set around them, and what earnest care He takes of them that are contemptible and perishing, at once threatening incurable ills to them that make them fall, and promising great blessings to them that wait upon them, and take care of them, and bringing an example from Himself again and from the Father?

Let us also imitate Him, refusing none of the tasks that seem lowly and troublesome for our brothers' sake. Even if we have to perform service, even if the person for whom this is done is small, even if he is insignificant, even if the work is difficult, even if we must travel over mountains and steep cliffs, let us consider all things bearable for our brother's salvation. For a soul is an object of such serious concern to God that He did not spare His own Son.

Him let us also imitate, refusing none of the tasks that seem lowly and troublesome for our brethren's sake; but though we have to do service, though he be small, though he be mean for whom this is done, though the work be laborious, though we must pass over mountains and precipices, let all things be held endurable for the salvation of our brother. For a soul is an object of such earnest care to God, that He spared not His own Son. Romans 8:32

Therefore I urge you, when morning comes, as soon as we leave our house, let us have this one goal in mind, this concern above all others, to rescue the person who is in danger. I do not mean only the danger that is perceived by the senses, for that is not really danger at all, but the danger of the soul, the danger that is brought upon people by the devil.

Wherefore I entreat, when morning has appeared, straightway as we come out of our house, let us have this one object in view, this earnest care above all, to rescue him that is in danger; I do not mean this danger only that is known by sense, for this is not danger at all, but the danger of the soul, that which is brought upon men by the devil.

For the merchant too, to increase his wealth, crosses the sea; and the artisan, to add to his substance, does all things. Let us then not be satisfied with our own salvation only, since otherwise we destroy even that. For in a war too, and in a battle, the soldier who is focused only on saving himself by running away destroys the rest along with himself; but on the other hand, the brave one who stands armed in defense of others preserves himself along with them. Since our condition is also a war, and the most bitter of all wars, a battle and a combat, let us arrange ourselves in the fight just as our King commanded us, prepared for slaughter and blood and killing, looking to the salvation of all, encouraging those who stand, and lifting up those who have fallen. For indeed many of our brothers lie fallen in this conflict, having wounds, lying in blood, and there is no one to heal them—not any of the people, not a priest, no one else, no one to stand by them, no friend, no brother—but we each look only to our own affairs.

For the merchant too, to increase his wealth, crosses the sea; and the artisan, to add to his substance, does all things. Let us also then not be satisfied with our own salvation only, since else we destroy even this. For in a war too, and in an engagement, the soldier who is looking to this only how he may save himself by flight, destroys the rest also with himself; much as on the other hand the noble-minded one, and he who stands in arms in defense of the others, with the others preserves himself also. Since then our state too is a war, and of all wars the bitterest, and an engagement and a battle, even as our King commanded us, so let us set ourselves in array in the engagement, prepared for slaughter, and blood, and murders, looking to salvation in behalf of all, and cheering them that stand, and raising up them that are down. For indeed many of our brethren lie fallen in this conflict, having wounds, wallowing in blood, and there is none to heal, not any one of the people, not a priest, no one else, no one to stand by, no friend, no brother, but we look every man to his own things.

Because of this we also damage our own interests. For the greatest confidence and means of approval is not looking to our own things.

By reason of this we maim our own interests also. For the greatest confidence and means of approval is the not looking to our own things.

This is why, I say, we are weak and easily overcome by both men and the devil—because we pursue the opposite of this and do not lock our shields together, nor are we fortified with godly love. Instead, we seek other reasons for friendship: some from family ties, some from long acquaintance, some from shared interests, some from being neighbors. We form friendships based on every cause except godliness, when our friendships ought to be formed on this basis alone. But now the opposite happens: we sometimes become friends with Jews and Greeks more readily than with the children of the church.

Therefore I say, are we weak and easy to be overcome both by men, and by the devil, because we seek the opposite to this, and lock not our shields one with another, neither are fortified with godly love, but seek for ourselves other motives of friendship, some from relationship, some from long acquaintance, some from community of interest, some from neighborhood; and from every cause rather are we friends, than from godliness, when one's friendships ought to be formed upon this only. But now the contrary is done; with Jews and with Greeks we sometimes become friends, rather than with the children of the church.

Yes, he says, because one person is worthless, but the other is kind and gentle. What are you saying? Do you call your brother worthless, when you are commanded not to call him even Raca? And are you not ashamed? Do you not blush at exposing your brother, your fellow member, the one who has shared the same birth with you, who has eaten at the same table with you?

6. Yes, says he, because the one is worthless, but the other kind and gentle. What do you say? Do you call your brother worthless, who art commanded not to call him so much as Raca? And are you not ashamed, neither do you blush, at exposing your brother, your fellow member, him that has shared in the same birth with you, that has partaken of the same table?

But if you have a biological brother, even if he commits ten thousand evil deeds, you work to conceal him and consider yourself to share in the shame when he is disgraced. Yet when it comes to your spiritual brother, when you ought to free him from slander, do you instead surround him with ten thousand accusations?

But if you have any brother after the flesh, if he should perpetrate ten thousand evil deeds, you labor to conceal him, and accountest yourself also to partake of the shame, when he is disgraced; but as to your spiritual brother, when you ought to free him from calumny, thou dost rather encompass him with ten thousand charges against him?

Why he is worthless and unbearable, you may say. No, for this very reason become his friend, so that you may put an end to his being such a person, so that you may convert him, so that you may lead him back to virtue. But he doesn't obey, you will say, nor does he accept advice. How do you know? What—have you admonished him and tried to correct him? I have admonished him often, you will say. How many times? Many times, both once and a second time. Oh! Is this often? Why, even if you had done this throughout all the time, should you grow weary and give it up? Do you not see how God is always admonishing us, through the prophets, through the apostles, through the evangelists? What then? Have we done all? And have we been obedient in all things? By no means. Did He then stop admonishing? Did He hold His peace? Does He not say each day, You cannot serve God and mammon, and with many, the excess and the tyranny of wealth still increases? Does He not cry aloud each day, Forgive, and you shall have forgiveness, and we become wild beasts more and more? Does He not continually admonish to restrain desire and to keep mastery over wicked lust, and many wallow worse than swine in this sin? But nevertheless, He does not stop speaking.

Why he is worthless and insufferable, you may say. Nay then for this reason become his friend, that you may put an end to his being such a one, that you may convert him, that you may lead him back to virtue.– But he obeys not, you will say, neither does he bear advice. — Whence do you know it? What, have you admonished him, and attempted to amend him?– I have admonished him often, you will say. How many times?– Oftentimes, both once, and a second time.– Oh! Is this often? Why, if you had done this throughout all the time, ought thou to grow weary, and to give it up? Do you see not how God is always admonishing us, by the prophets, by the apostles, by the evangelists? What then? Have we performed all? And have we been obedient in all things? By no means. Did He then cease admonishing? Did He hold His peace? Does He not say each day, You cannot serve God, and mammon Matthew 6:24 and with many, the superfluity and the tyranny of wealth yet increases? Does He not cry aloud each day, Forgive, and you shall have forgiveness, Luke 6:37 and we become wild beasts more and more? Does He not continually admonish to restrain desire, and to keep the mastery over wicked lust, and many wallow worse than swine in this sin? But nevertheless, He ceases not speaking.

Why then do we not think about these things ourselves and realize that God also reasons with us and does not stop doing this, even though we disobey Him in many things?

Wherefore then do we not consider these things with ourselves, and say that even with us God reasons, and abstains not from doing this, although we disobey Him in many things?

Therefore He said that few are the saved. For if virtue in ourselves is not enough for our salvation, but we must also bring others with us when we depart, then when we have saved neither ourselves nor others, what will we suffer? From where will we have any further hope of salvation?

Therefore He said that, Few are the saved. For if virtue in ourselves suffices not for our salvation, but we must take with us others too when we depart; when we have saved neither ourselves, nor others, what shall we suffer? Whence shall we have any more a hope of salvation?

But why do I place blame for these things, when we do not even care for those who live with us—our wives, children, and servants? Instead, like drunken men, we concern ourselves with one thing rather than another: that our servants may be greater in number and serve us with much diligence, that our children may receive from us a large inheritance, and that our wives may have gold ornaments, expensive clothes, and wealth. We care nothing at all for them as persons, but only for what belongs to them. For we do not actually care for our own wife or provide for her, but only for what belongs to the wife; nor for the child, but only for what belongs to the child.

But why do I blame for these things, when not even of them that dwell with us do we take any account, of wife, and children, and servants, but we have care of one thing instead of another, like drunken men, that our servants may be more in number, and may serve us with much diligence, and that our children may receive from us a large inheritance, and that our wife may have ornaments of gold, and costly garments, and wealth; and we care not at all for themselves, but for the things that belong to them. For neither do we care for our own wife, nor provide for her, but for the things that belong to the wife; neither for the child, but for the things of the child.

We act just like someone who sees a house in bad condition with the walls falling down, but instead of fixing them, builds big fences around the outside. Or like someone who, when the body is sick, doesn't care for it but weaves gilded garments for it instead. Or like someone who, when the mistress of the house is ill, attends to the maidservants, the looms, and the household vessels, and worries about other things while leaving her to lie there moaning.

And we do the same as if any one seeing a house in a bad state, and the walls giving way, were to neglect to raise up these, and to make up great fences round it without; or when a body was diseased, were not to take care of this, but were to weave for it gilded garments; or when the mistress was ill, were to give heed to the maidservants, and the looms, and the vessels in the house, and mind other things, leaving her to lie and moan.

For this is done even now, and when our soul is in evil and wretched condition, and angry, and reviling, and lusting wrongly, and full of vainglory, and at strife, and dragged down to the earth, and torn by so many wild beasts, we neglect to drive away the passions from it, and are careful about house and servants. And while if a bear has escaped secretly, we shut up our houses and run along by the narrow passages so as not to encounter the wild beast, now while not one wild beast but many such thoughts are tearing the soul to pieces, we have not even a feeling of it. And in the city we take so much care that we shut up the wild beasts in solitary places and in cages, and neither at the senate house of the city, nor at the courts of justice, nor at the king's palace, but far off somewhere at a distance we keep them chained. But in the case of the soul, where the senate house is, where the King's palace is, where the court of justice is, the wild beasts are let loose, crying and making a tumult about the mind itself and the royal throne. Therefore all things are turned upside down, and all is full of disturbance, the things within, the things without, and we are in nothing different from a city thrown into confusion from being overrun by barbarians. And what takes place in us is as though a serpent were attacking a brood of sparrows, and the sparrows, with their feeble cries, were flying about every way frightened and full of trouble, without having any place where they can go and end their panic.

For this is done even now, and when our soul is in evil and wretched case, and angry, and reviling, and lusting wrongly, and full of vainglory, and at strife, and dragged down to the earth, and torn by so many wild beasts, we neglect to drive away the passions from her, and are careful about house and servants. And while if a bear has escaped by stealth, we shut up our houses, and run along by the narrow passages, so as not to fall in with the wild beast; now while not one wild beast, but many such thoughts are tearing in pieces the soul, we have not so much as a feeling of it. And in the city we take so much care, as to shut up the wild beasts in solitary places and in cages, and neither at the senate house of the city, nor at the courts of justice, nor at the king's palace, but far off somewhere at a distance do we keep them chained; but in the case of the soul, where the senate house is, where the King's palace, where the court of justice is, the wild beasts are let loose, crying and making a tumult about the mind itself and the royal throne. Therefore all things are turned upside down, and all is full of disturbance, the things within, the things without, and we are in nothing different from a city thrown into confusion from being overrun by barbarians; and what takes place in us is as though a serpent were setting on a brood of sparrows, and the sparrows, with their feeble cries, were flying about every way affrighted, and full of trouble, without having any place whither to go and end their consternation.

Therefore I beg you, let us kill the serpent, let us shut up the wild beasts, let us stifle them, let us slay them, and let us hand over these wicked thoughts to the sword of the Spirit, so that the prophet does not threaten us with the same things he threatened Judea with: that wild donkeys will dance there, along with porcupines and serpents.

7. Wherefore I entreat, let us kill the serpent, let us shut up the wild beasts, let us stifle them, let us slay them, and these wicked thoughts let us give over to the sword of the Spirit, lest the prophet threaten us also with such things as he threatened Judea, that The wild asses shall dance there, and porcupines, and serpents.

For there are, there really are, men worse than wild donkeys, living as if in the wilderness and kicking. In fact, most of the young people among us are like this. For having wild desires, they leap about this way and kick, going around unrestrained, and they spend their energy on nothing worthwhile.

For there are, there are even men worse than wild asses, living as it were in the wilderness, and kicking; yea the more part of the youth among us is like this. For indeed having wild lusts they thus leap, they kick, going about unbridled, and spend their diligence on no becoming object.

The fathers are to blame. They force horse trainers to discipline their horses with great care and don't allow young colts to remain untamed for long, but instead put a bridle and all the other equipment on them from the beginning. Yet they overlook their own young ones, allowing them to go about for a long time unbridled and without self-control, disgracing themselves through sexual immorality, gambling, and constantly attending wicked theaters. Instead, before sexual immorality occurs, they ought to give him a wife—a chaste wife who is richly endowed with wisdom. For she will both rescue her husband from his most disorderly way of life and will serve in place of a bridle for the colt.

And the fathers are to blame, who while they constrain the horsebreakers to discipline their horses with much attention, and suffer not the youth of the colt to go on long untamed, but put upon it both a rein, and all the rest, from the beginning; but their own young ones they overlook, going about for a long season unbridled, and without temperance; disgracing themselves, by fornications, and gamings, and continuings in the wicked theatres, when they ought before fornication to give him to a wife, to a wife chaste, and highly endued with wisdom; for she will both bring off her husband from his most disorderly course of life, and will be instead of a rein to the colt.

Indeed, fornication and adultery come from no other cause than young men being unrestrained. For if he has a prudent wife, he will take care of his house, his honor, and his character. But he is young, you say. I know that too. For if Isaac was forty years old when he took his bride, passing all that time of his life in virginity, how much more ought young men under grace to practice this self-restraint. But what grief! You do not endure to take care of their chastity, but you overlook their disgracing themselves, defiling themselves, becoming accursed—as though you do not know that the benefit of marriage is to preserve the body pure, and if this is not so, there is no advantage to marriage. But you do the opposite. When they are filled with countless stains, then you bring them to marriage without purpose and without fruit.

For indeed fornications and adulteries come not from any other cause, than from young men's being unrestrained. For if he have a prudent wife, he will take care of house and honor and character. But he is young, you say. I know it too. For if Isaac was forty years old when he took his bride, passing all that time of his life in virginity, much more ought young men under grace to practise this self-restraint. But oh what grief! You do not endure to take care of their chastity, but you overlook their disgracing, defiling themselves, becoming accursed; as though ye knew not that the profit of marriage is to preserve the body pure, and if this be not so, there is no advantage of marriage. But ye do the contrary; when they are filled with countless stains, then ye bring them to marriage without purpose and without fruit.

You say, "I must wait so that he may prove himself worthy, so that he may distinguish himself in the affairs of the state." But you give no consideration to the soul—instead you disregard it as something worthless. This is why everything is full of confusion, disorder, and trouble: because the soul is treated as a secondary matter, because necessary things are neglected while unimportant things receive great attention.

Why I must wait, you will say, that he may become approved, that he may distinguish himself in the affairs of the state; but of the soul you have no consideration, but you overlook it as a cast-away. For this reason all things are full of confusion, and disorder, and trouble, because this is made a secondary matter, because necessary things are neglected, but the unimportant obtain much forethought.

Don't you realize that you can do no greater kindness to a young person than to keep him pure from sexual immorality? Nothing is equal to the soul. For as he says, "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?" (Matthew 16:26). But because the love of money has overthrown and ruined everything, and has pushed aside the reverent fear of God—having seized the souls of people like a rebel leader seizing a fortress—we are therefore careless about both our children's salvation and our own. We look to only one goal: that by becoming wealthier, we may leave riches to others, and they in turn to others after them, and those who follow to their descendants. We become merely those who pass on our possessions and our money, rather than masters of them.

Do you not know, that you can do no such kindness to the youth, as to keep him pure from whorish uncleannness? For nothing is equal to the soul. Because, What is a man profited, says He, if he shall gain the whole world, but lose his own soul. Matthew 16:26 But because the love of money has overturned and cast down all, and has thrust aside the strict fear of God, having seized upon the souls of men, like some rebel chief upon a citadel; therefore we are careless both of our children's salvation, and of our own, looking to one object only, that having become wealthier, we may leave riches to others, and these again to others after them, and they that follow these to their posterity, becoming rather a kind of passers on of our possessions and of our money, but not masters.

This is why our foolishness is so great. This is why free children are valued less than slaves. We correct slaves—if not for their own benefit, then at least for our own. But free children don't even receive this much care, and we hold them in lower regard than slaves. And why do I mention slaves? Our children are valued less than livestock. We take better care of horses and donkeys than we do of our children. If someone owns a mule, he takes great care to find the best groom—making sure the person is not harsh, dishonest, drunk, or unskilled in his work. But when we appoint a tutor for a child's soul, we take whoever happens to be available, choosing carelessly and at random. Yet there is no greater art than this. For what can compare to training the soul and shaping the mind of a young person? Anyone who practices this art should be more careful and attentive than any painter or sculptor.

Hence great is our folly; hence the free are less esteemed than the slaves. For slaves we reprove, if not for their sake, yet for our own; but the free enjoy not the benefit even of this care, but are more vile in our estimation than these slaves. And why do I say, than our slaves? For our children are less esteemed than cattle; and we take care of horses and asses rather than of children. And should one have a mule, great is his anxiety to find the best groom, and not one either harsh, or dishonest, or drunken, or ignorant of his art; but if we have set a tutor over a child's soul, we take at once, and at random, whoever comes in our way. And yet than this art there is not another greater. For what is equal to training the soul, and forming the mind of one that is young? For he that has this art, ought to be more exactly observant than any painter and any sculptor.

But we pay no attention to this and focus on only one thing: that he may be trained in how to speak. And even this effort we have directed toward money. For he does not learn speaking so that he may be able to speak well, but so that he may make money. If it were possible to become rich even without this skill, we would not care about it at all.

But we take no account of this, but look to one thing only, that he may be trained as to his tongue. And to this again we have directed our endeavors for money's sake. For not that he may be able to speak, but that he may get money, does he learn speaking; since if it were possible to grow rich even without this, we should have no care even for this.

Do you see how great the tyranny of riches is? How it has taken control of everything, and having bound all things like slaves or cattle, drags them wherever it wants?

Do you see how great is the tyranny of riches? How it has seized upon all things, and having bound them like some slaves or cattle, drags them where it will?

But what good do these accusations against wealth do us? We attack it with words, but it defeats us through actions. Still, we will not stop attacking it with words from our tongues. For if any progress is made, both we and you benefit; but if you stay the same, at least we have done our part.

But what are we advantaged by such accusations against it? For we indeed shoot at it in words, but it prevails over us in deeds. Nevertheless, not even so shall we cease to shoot at it with words from our tongue. For if any advance is made, both we are gainers and you; but if you continue in the same things, all our part at least has been performed.

But may God both deliver you from this disease and cause us to take pride in you, for to Him be glory and dominion, forever and ever. Amen.

But may God both deliver you from this disease, and cause us to glory in you, for to Him be glory, and dominion, world without end. Amen.