The first preacher of the word of faith in Corinth was the Apostle Paul. There he endured many sufferings from the Jews and Greeks who were there (Acts 18:17).
There also “many of the Corinthians, hearing, believed and were baptized” (Acts 18:8). After Paul, Apollos and other preachers of the faith came to Corinth and taught there.
These men he calls tutors, that is, guardians or instructors, because they too instructed them in piety. He calls himself father because he was the first to preach the Gospel to them.
Having turned them from the worship of idols to the true Christian faith, he begot them anew. He made them spiritual instead of carnal, and heavenly instead of earthly.
I write these things, he says, that is, these rebukes to you, Corinthians, not to shame your faces, but to instruct you as my beloved children.
For although you have many tutors, you do not have many fathers who can rebuke you for sins with such boldness and love, and give you counsel without hesitation.
For I alone am your father in spirit. I begot you by teaching you the evangelical faith.
Since, then, I have the right to be called your father, for this reason I beseech you: be imitators of me. Imitate my faith in Christ, my love, my humility, my hope, my zeal, and the other virtues.
Only Paul, and anyone else who has attained the perfection of his virtue, can say with boldness, “Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ.”
How, then, did the all-praised Paul dare to set himself as an example instead of Jesus Christ, saying, “Be imitators of me” (1 Cor 4:16)? Why did he not imitate Peter in this command?
Who does not know that a copy is never exactly the same as the original? However great the holiness and perfection in Paul’s character and deeds, they do not attain the boundless degree of the holiness and perfection of Jesus Christ.
For Paul is only man, while Jesus Christ is also God. Why, then, did Paul turn our eyes from Jesus Christ to himself, that is, from the most perfect example to the less perfect?
We believe that the words of the Apostle Paul are inspired by God, equal in force and honor to the other words of divine Scripture.
Therefore, like all his other sayings, these words, “Be imitators of me,” contain a spiritual and saving meaning.
First, we see that he did not keep silent about imitating Jesus Christ. Rather, he presented Him as the original example, and confessed that he himself looked to Him and took from Him the pattern of every virtue.
He said, “Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ.” Second, we can see that he spoke this way to show the ease of the matter.
He wished to incline his own people more strongly toward virtue, and so to bring them benefit. Hear how this saying, “Be imitators of me,” acts upon the souls of the faithful and helps them.
The more the senses communicate concepts of things to the mind, the more the mind is assured of the existence of those things.
Therefore we are more readily assured of what we see, hear, and handle than of what we only hear.
For this reason Peter and John spoke before the council with such boldness: “For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20).
And John wrote, “That which we heard, which we saw with our eyes, which we beheld, and our hands handled, concerning the Word of life; that which we saw and heard we declare to you” (1 Jn 1:1, 3).
The Corinthians had heard about Jesus Christ, but they had not seen Him Himself, nor His miracles and deeds. But when Paul came to Corinth and taught them, they both saw and heard him.
Their hands handled, so to speak, his life and deeds. They saw his struggles, bonds, and afflictions, which he endured there for the preaching of the faith.
They saw all his virtues and wondrous corrections. Therefore he sets himself before them as a visible, known, and tangible example, and consequently as one able to stir them to the doing of good works.
Imitate, he says, the faith, love, hope, zeal, and struggles which you saw, knew, and handled in me. This word is powerful, for a visible example has great force.
And lest anyone think that he said this out of pride, he presents at the same time the archetypal example: “Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ” (1 Cor 4:16).
It is as though he said: whoever imitates me imitates Jesus Christ. For I did not become an example worthy of imitation by myself, but by imitating Christ.
This apostolic word, my beloved brethren, takes away every excuse that we usually make when we turn aside from the path of perfection and virtue.
When I look in spirit upon Jesus Christ, Master of all creation, as a servant girded with a towel, pouring water into a basin, bending His knees before His disciples, washing their feet, and wiping them “with the towel with which He was girded” (Jn 13:5), I marvel.
I marvel at His immeasurable humility. I am moved to compunction and weep, and my conscience moves me toward the virtue of humility.
But my mind, all-wicked and corrupted by pride, offers the divinity of Jesus Christ as my excuse. Jesus Christ, my reason tells me, being most perfect God, also had most perfect humility.
But you, being an imperfect man, cannot imitate Him. You cannot humble yourself as much as He humbled Himself. This excuse stops the movement of conscience and the impulse toward humility.
When I see in spirit Jesus Christ, my Creator and Lord, dragged before tribunals, mocked by soldiers, spat upon, struck on the face, holding a reed in His right hand, and wearing a crown of thorns on His head, I marvel.
I see Him crucified between two thieves, blasphemed by passersby, mocked by the chief priests, and reviled by the thieves crucified with Him.
And in all this I see Him as a guileless lamb, not opening His mouth. Then I marvel and am astonished at His extraordinary meekness and patience.
I am struck in heart and stirred by conscience to practice these great virtues. But my mind, corrupted by the passion of anger and rage, brings forth the divinity of Jesus Christ as an excuse.
It tells me that Jesus Christ, as God and being passionless, had the virtue of meekness and patience in infinite perfection.
But you, as a man subject to passions, cannot imitate Him and endure what He endured. This excuse too stifles the promptings of my conscience.
When in thought I ascend Mount Golgotha and see there the sinless Jesus Christ hanging on the Cross for my salvation, suffering from the cruel wounds and pains of the Cross, I am moved to compunction.
When, I say, I hear Him justifying His enemies and praying for those who crucified Him, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34), then I am struck.
Looking upon His infinite guilelessness and compassion, tears flow from my eyes. My conscience itself instructs me and says: forgive your enemies according to the example of your Redeemer and Master.
But my mind, corrupted by the passion of hatred and self-love, finds in the divinity of Jesus Christ a cause for excuse.
It says to me: Jesus Christ, being God and possessing infinite perfections, also has boundless guilelessness and mercy.
But you, as a man so imperfect and possessed by so many passions, cannot imitate Him. You cannot be as guileless and merciful as He was.
From this the zeal of the soul grows cold, and the voice of conscience grows weak.
Every Christian, reflecting on the holiness of the works of Jesus Christ, marvels at them, stands in wonder, is contrite, and desires to become His imitator.
But imagining that Jesus Christ is not only man but also God, he excuses himself by his weaknesses and refuses such an undertaking.
But if, seeing in the Apostle Paul such humility as he showed when he called himself the refuse of the world and the offscouring of all earthborn men, we remain proud, what excuse have we?
He said, “We have become as the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things until now” (1 Cor 4:13).
If, seeing this, we boast in our virtue, noble birth, wealth, power, or dignities, what justification do we have?
Paul was not the God-man as Jesus Christ is, but only a man like us. How, then, could he descend to such a depth of humility?
He was the chosen vessel, the teacher of the universe, the light of the whole world (Acts 9:15). He was “caught up to the third heaven and heard unspeakable words” (2 Cor 12:4).
Yet we, being men as he was a man, think highly of ourselves. We do this though we do not have the gifts he had, and we turn away from the great virtue of humility.
What pretext for self-justification does our mind invent in this? What excuse do we deserve when we look upon the Apostle Paul?
We see him, for love of Christ and zeal for the salvation of his neighbor, hungry, thirsty, naked, suffering, wandering, laboring, and working with his own hands (1 Cor 4:11-12).
Yet we not only do not endure hunger and thirst, but do not even wish to abstain from certain foods during the fast.
We not only do not endure nakedness, but even disdain moderate and humble garments. We not only do not bear wrongs done to us, but resent our brother for a single cold word spoken carelessly.
We not only flee the disturbance joined to constant change of place. We do not wish, even for one hour, to leave the pleasures of our comfortable and carefree life for love of Jesus Christ and the good of our neighbor.
How shall we excuse ourselves when we see that Paul blesses those who insult him, is magnanimous toward his persecutors, and forgives those who slander him (1 Cor 4:12-13)?
We, by contrast, suffer some small harm from another, then act treacherously, strive by every means to harm him, and persecute him even to death.
Paul was a man like us. He was clothed in the same flesh as we are, tempted by the same passions and desires as we are, and dwelling in the same world as we do.
He fought continually against the same principalities and powers, against the same rulers of the darkness of this age, and against the spirits of wickedness under heaven (Eph 6:12), as we do.
Yet in all this he conquered his enemies, triumphed, and became an imitator of Jesus Christ. But we are conquered by them, turn back, and become imitators of the devil.
What justification or excuse do we have in this?
But you say that, being man, it is impossible to imitate Jesus Christ, because He was not only man but also God. Why, then, did Paul become His imitator?
You say that you cannot walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ because He was the God-man. Then walk in the footsteps of the Apostle Paul, who was only a man like you.
Do you see what heavenly wisdom is contained in this apostolic saying, “Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ” (1 Cor 4:16)?
Do you see how it removes from our hearts every pretext for excuse, abolishes all our objections, and leaves us without answer?
If you cannot, as you say, imitate Jesus Christ because He is the God-man, then imitate Paul, who was only a man.
And by imitating him, you will imitate Christ Himself, because Paul is an imitator of Christ. “Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ.”
But we do not have, you will say, Paul’s understanding, nor his will, nor the grace he acquired. True, but you can receive these gifts if only you wish.
For the Lord God created you self-governing and free in will. Paul himself was once a stranger to these good thoughts and to this will, but he acquired them afterward.
Formerly he was a persecutor of Jesus Christ, but afterward he preached His name among all the nations. Formerly he strove to destroy the Church of Christ, but afterward he built and strengthened it.
Formerly he was an irreconcilable enemy of Christians, but afterward he became their zealous defender. Formerly he darkened human souls by preaching Judaism, but afterward he enlightened the whole universe by preaching Christianity.
Therefore, if your thoughts and will are wicked, change them into good ones. Then you will have the mind and will of holy Paul.
THEOSIS