THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
What then? Should teachers also not do this? They should do it in the case of manifest sins, at confession, at the proper time, and with sorrow and contrition.
They must not do it with pride and vainglory, as the Corinthians did. The Apostle is not speaking here of sins confessed, but of preferring one man to another and comparing their lives.
Only He who will judge our hidden thoughts can judge this without error. He will determine which thoughts deserve greater or lesser punishment, or reward. We judge by appearances.
If I cannot know precisely where I myself am sinful, he says, how shall I count myself worthy to pronounce sentence on others? Since I do not know my own deeds with precision, how can I judge the deeds of others?
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If Paul was such, how much more are we? He said this not to show that he was beyond reproach, but to show that even a sinless man would not be worthy to judge the lives of others.
If he, knowing nothing against himself, does not count himself innocent, then they, knowing many sins against themselves, can all the less count themselves so.
Having stopped the mouths of those making such judgments, he then turns his anger sorrowfully against the incestuous man.
When a storm approaches, dark clouds appear first. Then, when thunder has sounded and the whole sky becomes like one cloud, rain suddenly pours down upon the earth. So he also acts here.
He could have turned directly against the incestuous man with great indignation, but he does not do this. First he casts down his arrogance with fearsome words.
For the man had been guilty of a double sin: adultery, and what is worse than adultery, impenitence in sin.
Paul grieves not so much over the sin as over the sinner’s impenitence: “lest I mourn over many who have sinned before and have not repented of the uncleanness, fornication, and licentiousness which they practiced” (2 Cor 12:21).
The man who repents after sin deserves not sorrow, but blessing, as one who has entered the company of the righteous. “Declare your iniquities first,” says the prophet, “that you may be justified” (Isa 43:26).
But the man who is not ashamed after sin deserves pity, not so much because he fell, but because, having fallen, he lies there.
If failing to repent of sins is grievous, what punishment is deserved by taking pride in sins? If the man who exalts himself in his virtues is unclean, what forgiveness will he receive who exalts himself in his vices?
Such was the incestuous man. His soul had become coarse and hardened in sin.
Therefore the Apostle found it necessary first to cast down his pride. He does not accuse him before everyone else, lest he become still more shameless by being accused first.
Nor does he accuse him after everyone else, lest he think his crime insignificant. First he instills great fear in him by admonishing others. He shakes his soul by an accusation directed at others, and only then turns to him.
These very words, “I know nothing against myself, yet I am not thereby justified,” and also, “But He who judges me is the Lord, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts” (1 Cor 4:4-5), were not spoken at random.
They concern him and his accomplices, who were belittling the saints. What of it, he says, if some outwardly seem virtuous and admirable?
This Judge does not judge by outward appearance alone, but reveals what is hidden. Thus our judgment is not right for two reasons, or rather for three.
First, even if we know nothing against ourselves, we are still liable before the judgment of Him who exposes our sins with precision.
Second, most deeds remain unrevealed and unknown to us. Third, many actions of others seem good to us, but are not done with a good intention.
Why do you say that this man or that man has committed no sin, or that this man is better than that one? This cannot be said even of the man who knows nothing against himself.
Only He who sees what is hidden pronounces right judgment. See, even I “know nothing against myself, yet I am not thereby justified.” That is, I am not free from guilt and condemnation.
He does not say, “I am not among the righteous,” but, “I am not clean from sin.” Elsewhere he says, “He who has died has been justified from sin,” that is, set free (Rom 6:7).
We do many good deeds, but not with a good intention. Thus we praise many people, not to show their virtues, but to lower others through them.
The deed itself is good, because a virtuous man is praised. But the intention is evil, because it proceeds from a satanic disposition.
This is often done not from rejoicing with a brother, but from the desire to harm another. Again, one man commits a grave sin.
Another, wishing to destroy him, insists that he has done nothing bad. He encourages the sinner by pointing to what is common to human nature.
Yet he often does this not to forgive, but with the intention of making him more careless. And often a man rebukes, not to admonish and correct, but to expose and mock another’s sin.
Men do not know such intentions. But the One who searches hearts (Ps 7:9) knows them precisely, and He will reveal all this in its time.
Therefore the Apostle says, “Who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts.”
If, even when we know nothing against ourselves, we cannot be free from condemnation, and if we are punished for good deeds done with a bad intention, consider how unjust human judgments are.
Men cannot see everything. This is possible only for the one sleepless Eye. We can deceive men, but never Him.
Therefore do not say, “Darkness and walls surround me. Who sees me?” He who fashioned our hearts one by one (Ps 32:15) knows all things, for “even darkness is not dark” to Him (Ps 138:12).
Nevertheless, the sinner rightly says that darkness and walls surround him. If there were no darkness in his soul, he would not reject the fear of God and surrender himself to shamelessness.
For sin does not dare enter before the ruling part of the soul has been darkened. Therefore do not say, “Who sees me?”
There is One who “pierces to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow” (Heb 4:12), though you do not see even yourself.
You cannot scatter the clouds. As one surrounded on every side by a wall, you cannot look up to heaven.
We shall set before you any sin you wish, and you will see that this truly happens. Thieves and those who dig through walls put out the lamp when they intend to steal something precious.
So also does an evil thought act with sinners. There is an intellectual lamp in us, always burning.
If the spirit of adultery rushes in with great force and extinguishes its light, it immediately darkens and overcomes the soul. At once it plunders everything found within it.
When an evil desire takes possession of the soul, its rational eye is darkened. Just as bodily eyes are darkened by cloud and gloom, it can see nothing.
It sees neither the abyss, nor Gehenna, nor fear. At last, unable to resist the force of desire, it becomes easily inclined toward sin.
Before its eyes there rises, as it were, an impenetrable wall. It does not allow the ray of righteousness to illumine its mind, because evil thoughts born of desire surround it on every side.
Then the harlot appears to the man, constantly standing before his eyes, in his mind and thoughts.
Blind men, even if they stand at midday under the open sky, cannot see the light, because their eyes are closed.
So also such a man, even if countless saving doctrines resound around him on every side, has already been seized in his soul by this passion.
He shuts his hearing against every exhortation. Those who have experienced this know it well. But may you never come to know it by experience.
Not this sin alone, but every evil passion produces the same thing. Let us turn our speech, if you wish, from the harlot to money.
Here we shall see a thick and impenetrable darkness. Where there is one mistress, kept in one place, the passion is not so strong.
But when money appears everywhere, in workshops of silver and gold, in inns, and in rich houses, then the passion works powerfully.
When a man sick with this passion sees children walking in the market, horses adorned with gold, and people clothed in costly garments, great darkness spreads through his soul.
But why speak of houses and workshops? I think such people, when they see wealth depicted in a painting, are disturbed, vexed, and driven mad.
So does darkness surround them everywhere. If they turn their gaze to an image of the king, they do not admire the beauty of the stones, nor the garments of gold and purple.
Rather, they are tormented by passion. An unhappy lover, seeing an image of the woman he loves, cannot tear himself from the lifeless picture.
So also they, seeing the lifeless image of wealth, suffer in the same way. Indeed, they suffer still more, since they are enslaved by a stronger passion.
They must either sit at home, or go out to the market, receive a thousand wounds, and return home with them. For there are too many things that strike their eyes.
As the first man sees nothing but the woman, so these men see neither the poor nor anything else on the road from which they might receive consolation.
They fix their eyes only on the rich. Looking at them, they gather a great and powerful fire into their soul.
Truly, this is a fire, cruelly consuming the man who falls into it. Even if there were no Gehenna and no future punishment, this would be punishment in the present life itself.
It is punishment to suffer constantly and see no end to one’s sufferings. This alone could restrain one from such a disease.
There is nothing worse than a mad passion, which makes a man cleave even to things that bring only bitterness and no profit.
Therefore I exhort you to destroy passion at its very beginning. When a fever first begins, it does not greatly stir thirst in the sick.
But when its fire grows and intensifies, it produces unquenchable thirst. If someone gives them drink, he does not quench the flame, but increases it still more.
So it is with this passion. If, at the beginning, when it invades our soul, we do not stop it and shut the door, then once it enters it causes an incurable disease in those who receive it.
For everything, both good and evil, becomes stronger the longer it remains in us.
Then he softens even this by adding, "I do not even judge myself." Do you see that his words do not come from pride? "I myself," he says, "am not able to pronounce judgment." Since even these words could be ascribed to excessive pride, he wards off such an opinion by saying, "Yet by this I am not justified."
What then? Should one not condemn oneself even for one's sins? One should, and very much so, when we sin. But Paul is not speaking of this. "For I know nothing against myself," he says. For what sin would he condemn himself, if he knows nothing against himself? Yet even so, he says, "by this I am not justified."
What then shall we say, who have a conscience struck with countless wounds? We know nothing good in ourselves, but everything contrary to it. Why is he not justified, if he knows nothing against himself? Because even he sometimes allowed certain transgressions without being conscious of those transgressions. From this you may conclude how exact the judgment to come is.
Thus he counted others unworthy to judge him, not because he regarded himself as blameless, but because he wished to stop the mouths of those who did this senselessly. Elsewhere, when the circumstances required it, he forbids judging neighbors even in the case of manifest sins. "But why do you judge your brother? Or why do you despise your brother?" (Rom 14:10).