1 Corinthians 9:23Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Do you see his prudence? Do you see his extraordinary zeal? He did more than was commanded and did not take, though he could have taken. Do you see his greatest condescension? Though he was under the law of Christ and kept the highest law, he became to those without law as one without law, and to Jews as a Jew. In both respects he proved more perfect and higher than all.

You also should act in this way. Do not think that you fall if, being exalted, you do something lowly for your brother. This is not falling, but condescending.

The one who falls lies there and can scarcely rise himself. The one who condescends will rise with great gain, just as Paul condescended alone and rose with the whole world.

He was not pretending. If he had been pretending, he would not have sought the profit of those being saved. A pretender seeks the ruin of others and pretends in order to take, not in order to give.

But he was not like this. A physician, a teacher, and a father condescend, the first to the sick man, the second to the disciple, and the third to the son, for their benefit, not for their harm. So did Paul.

That what he said was not pretense, and that he was not compelled to do or say anything of the kind, but voluntarily expressed his disposition and conviction, hear how he himself speaks of it: "Neither death, nor life. Nor Angels, nor Principalities, nor Powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom 8:38-39).

Do you see a love more fiery than fire? Let us also love Christ in this way. This is not difficult if we wish it. Paul was not such by nature. His earlier actions, opposite to these, were recorded so that we might know that change depends on free choice and that all things are easy for those who desire them.

Let us not despair. Even if you are abusive, even if you are covetous, whatever you may be, remember that Paul too was a blasphemer, a persecutor, an oppressor, and the first of sinners. Yet suddenly he reached the highest degree of virtue, and all that came before did not hinder him at all.

No one surrendered to vice with such fury as he used in warring against the Church. He then gave over his whole soul to it and regretted that he did not have a thousand hands, so that with all of them he might strike Stephen. Yet even without them he found a way to strike him with many hands, the hands of the false witnesses whose garments he guarded.

Then he entered houses and burst into them like a wild beast. He dragged away and tore men and women, filling everything with terror, confusion, and countless conflicts. He was so fearsome that even after his wondrous conversion the Apostles did not dare to enter into fellowship with him.

Yet despite all this, he became what he became. Nothing more needs to be added. Where, then, are those who subject freedom of will to inescapable fate? Let them hear this and stop their mouths.

Nothing can hinder the one who wishes to be good, even if previously he was among the most wicked. We are all the more capable of this because virtue is more natural to us, while vice is more contrary to nature, just as sickness and health are.

Thus God gave us eyes not so that we might look with lust, but so that, marveling at creation, we might worship the Creator. Experience shows that this is indeed the purpose of the eyes. We see the beauty of the sun and heaven across immeasurable space, but no one could see a woman's beauty from such a distance. Is it not clear that our eyes were created more for the former?

Likewise God gave us hearing not so that we might receive blasphemous speeches, but so that we might hear saving dogmas. Therefore, when it receives anything improper, the soul and even the body shudder. "The talk of one who swears much," says the Wise Man, "will make the hair stand on end" (Sir 27:14).

Likewise, when we hear something harsh and cruel, we are grieved. When we hear something gentle and humane, we are delighted and rejoice.

Our mouths also, when they utter shameful words, make us feel shame and hide ourselves. But when they utter fitting words, they flow calmly and freely. No one is ashamed of what is natural. People are ashamed of what is not natural.

The hands also, when they steal, hide themselves and seek concealment. But when they give alms, they are held out in view.

Therefore, if we wish, everything will dispose us greatly toward virtue. If you point out to me the pleasure that comes from vice, notice that we receive still greater pleasure from virtue.

To have a good conscience, to be held in honor by all, and to nourish sweet hopes within oneself is most pleasant of all for one who understands the nature of pleasure. The opposite is most tormenting for one who understands the nature of displeasure. Such things are to be despised by all, to condemn oneself, and to tremble and fear both the future and the present.

To explain this still more, let us suppose that someone, while having a wife, destroys his neighbor's marriage and delights in this dishonorable theft, committing adultery with the woman he loves. Let us set opposite him another man who loves his own wife.

For a greater and clearer contrast, let us suppose that the man who lives with his own wife also loves that adulteress, but restrains his love and does nothing evil. Although even this is not pure chastity, we deliberately present such an example so that you may know what pleasure comes from virtue.

Let us place both men together and ask: whose life is more pleasant? From one we shall hear how he delights and rejoices in victory over desire. From the other, however, it is impossible even to learn anything. He will be found more wretched than prisoners themselves, even if he denies it a thousand times.

He fears and suspects everyone: his own wife, the adulteress's husband, the adulteress herself, servants, friends, relatives, walls, shadows, and himself. What is most burdensome of all, he carries within himself a conscience that cries out and gnaws him every day. If he remembers the judgment of God, he cannot even stand on his feet.

Besides, the pleasure is brief, while the grief from it is constant. In the evening, at night, in the wilderness, in the city, and everywhere, his accuser follows him. It shows him a sharpened sword and unbearable torments, wearing him down and crushing him with fear.

By contrast, the chaste man is free from all this and undisturbed. With calm eyes he looks upon his wife, children, friends, and everything else. If the man who loves, yet merely restrains his passion, enjoys such pleasure, must not the soul of the one who does not love and keeps pure chastity be filled with a feeling sweeter than every calm and more pleasant than every harbor?

For this reason, surely, you see few adulterers and more chaste people. If the life of the former were more pleasant, many would choose it. Do not tell me that this happens from fear of the laws. It is not fear that restrains them, but the extreme foulness of vice, the excess of griefs arising from passion over the pleasures it gives, and the voice of conscience.

Such is the state of the adulterer. If you wish, let us also present the covetous man and expose another passion, equally vicious. We shall see that he too is tormented by fear and cannot enjoy pure pleasure.

When he imagines those whom he has wronged, those who pity them, and everyone's opinion of him, he is tossed by countless waves. Not only this torments him, but also the fact that he cannot enjoy the thing he loves.

This is precisely the character of lovers of money. They possess not in order to use, but in order not to use. If this seems a riddle to you, then hear something still worse and stranger. They are deprived of pleasure not only because they dare not use their possessions as they would like, but also because they are never satisfied and are tormented by unceasing thirst. What could be more tormenting than this?

The righteous man is not like this. He is free from danger, hatred, fear, and unquenchable thirst. As everyone curses the one, so everyone wishes good to the other. As the one has not a single friend, so the other has not a single enemy.

If all this is beyond doubt, what could be more unpleasant than vice and more pleasant than virtue? Yet however much we speak, it is impossible to express in words all the unpleasantness of the former or all the pleasures of the latter unless we ourselves experience them.

Then we shall know that vice is more bitter than gall, when we taste the sweetness of virtue. Vice is even now unpleasant, burdensome, and unbearable. Those enslaved to it will not contradict this. But when we leave it behind, then we shall feel even better how bitter its demands are.

That many surrender to it is not at all surprising. Children also often choose what is less pleasant, neglecting what gives greater delight. The sick, for a brief pleasure, reject constant and secure gladness. This comes from the weakness and folly of those given over to passion, not from the nature of things.

Only the virtuous man lives in pleasure. He is truly rich and truly free. If someone agrees to attribute to virtue undisturbed peace, calm, freedom from danger, every fear, and every suspicion, but refuses only to attribute pleasure to it, he seems to me quite ridiculous.

In what else does pleasure consist, if not in being free from danger, fear, and grief, and in being enslaved to nothing? Tell me, who lives in pleasure? Is it the one who rages, is troubled, is torn by many passions, and does not possess himself? Or is it the one who is free from all these disturbances and abides in philosophy as in a harbor?

Is it not plainly the latter? But this belongs only to virtue. Vice bears only the name of pleasure, while in reality it lacks pleasure. Before it is fulfilled, it is frenzy, not pleasure. When it is fulfilled, the frenzy suddenly disappears.

If neither at the beginning nor afterward pleasure is seen in vice, where and when is it? So that you may better understand my words, let us explain this by an example.

Suppose someone has fallen in love with a beautiful and lovely woman. Until his passion is satisfied, he is like those possessed and mad. When it is satisfied, the desire disappears. If he feels no pleasure at the beginning, because he is in a state of madness, nor afterward, because the satisfaction of passion ends the desire, then where is this pleasure?

Our pleasures are not like this. At the beginning they are strangers to every disturbance, and to the end they keep their strength. Or rather, for us there is no end to pleasure. Our good things have no limit, and our pleasure never disappears.

Therefore, considering all this and desiring to receive pleasure, let us love virtue, that we may attain both present and future good things. May we all be counted worthy of them by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, dominion, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Having above shown at length in himself an example of how one must abstain from personal wishes and needs, and subject them to the benefit of one's neighbor, the Apostle wishes to incline the Corinthians to the same thing. For this purpose he uses a new comparison, or a new example, of runners in the stadium and wrestlers. In order to receive perishable crowns, they "abstain from all things" that might weaken the body or make it heavy, and so hinder them from reaching the goal. So also the Corinthians, in order to receive the imperishable crown, must abstain from that to which their knowledge supposedly gives them authority, namely, from eating things sacrificed to idols. Yet even in this metaphorical comparison, the Apostle again presents himself as an example to the Corinthians, so as to take away from them every pretext for excuse.

This is not falling, but condescending. He who falls lies there and can scarcely rise himself. But he who condescends will also rise with great gain. Thus Paul condescended alone, but rose with the whole world. As a physician, a teacher, and a father condescend, the first to the sick man, the second to the pupil, and the third to the son, for their benefit and not their harm, so also did Paul."

Chrysostom says: "So that he also, on his part, might contribute to salvation and become a participant in the crowns kept for the faithful." Theodoret writes: "The aim of the Gospel is the salvation of men. For this reason the Master ate with publicans and allowed the sinful woman to weep at His feet, teaching by this that He had come for the salvation of men." Imitating the Lord, St. Paul also acted so as more successfully to order the salvation of all. He does not expect great rewards, but cares only that he himself may be saved. "That I may be," he says, "only a fellow-partaker with those who have believed the Gospel." "Do you see his humility? In receiving rewards he places himself alongside others, although in labors he surpassed all. There is no doubt that he is more worthy of honors than all. Yet he does not ascribe them to himself before all, but wishes only to be a fellow-partaker with others in the crowns prepared. He says this not because he does everything for some reward, but so that he may dispose the Corinthians and persuade them by such hopes to do everything for the brethren. Do you see his prudence? Do you see his exceeding zeal? He did more than was commanded and did not take, though he could have taken. Do you see the greatest condescension? Though he was under the law of Christ and kept the highest law, he became to those without the law as without law, and to the Jews as a Jew. In both respects he was more perfect and higher than all. You also should act in this way. Do not think that you fall when, being exalted, you do something humble for your brother. This is not falling, but condescending. He who falls lies there and can scarcely rise himself. But he who condescends will also rise with great gain. Thus Paul condescended alone and rose with the whole world. He was not acting hypocritically. If he had been acting hypocritically, he would not have sought the benefit of those being saved. The hypocrite seeks the destruction of others and pretends in order to take, not in order to give. He was not so. As a physician, a teacher, and a father condescend, the first to the sick man, the second to the pupil, and the third to the son, for their benefit and not their harm, so also did Paul" (St. Chrysostom).