John Chrysostom
And he does not simply command that the epistle be read to all. He adds an adjuration, doing this also from the impulse of his fiery heart.
He wished that, even if they did not choose to heed his request, they would fulfill what had been commanded them for the sake of the adjuration. In those days men greatly feared this. But now even this has been trampled underfoot.
It often happens that a slave under punishment adjures his master by God and by His Christ, saying, “May God grant you to die a Christian.” Yet no one listens, and no one pays attention.
But if he adjures the man punishing him by his own son, then everyone at once lessens his rage, though unwillingly and with gnashing of teeth.
Again, someone is dragged and led into the middle of the marketplace, in the presence of Greeks and Jews. He adjures the one dragging him with the most fearful oaths, yet no one listens to him.
What will the Greeks not say when a believer adjures a believer and a Christian, and this brings him no benefit? On the contrary, we show still greater contempt for him.
Do you wish me to tell you an incident that I myself heard? I am not speaking of something I invented, but of what I heard from a trustworthy person.
A certain female slave had been given in marriage to an evil man, a criminal and a wanderer. Her husband had done much evil, and her mistress resolved to sell him, because his offenses were unforgivable.
The mistress was a widow and could not herself punish a man who was ruining her household. Therefore she decided to sell him.
But she considered it impious to separate a husband from his wife. So instead of parting them, she decided to sell the wife together with him, although this slave woman was useful to her.
Then the slave woman, seeing herself in distress, came to a certain honorable person closely acquainted with her mistress. This was the woman who told me the story.
Falling at her knees with many tears, she begged her to intercede for her before her mistress. After exhausting many words, she finally added one fearful adjuration, hoping above all to persuade her by it.
The adjuration was this: “Do not despise my request, lest Christ despise you on the day of judgment.” After saying this, she departed.
But the woman whom the slave had asked was occupied with urgent matters, the sort that commonly arise in household life. She forgot the request.
Then, at midday itself, that fearful adjuration suddenly came to her mind. She was greatly troubled, went immediately, interceded with complete zeal, and arranged the matter.
That same night she suddenly saw the heavens opened and Christ Himself. Yet she saw only as much as it is possible for a woman to see.
She was counted worthy of such a vision precisely because she had wholly heeded that adjuration, and because she had feared it.
I have told this so that we may not neglect adjurations, especially when someone implores us concerning good deeds, almsgiving, and love for mankind.
But look: beggars sit there, deprived of their feet, watching as you pass by them. Since they cannot follow you, they hope to hold you by fear of adjuration, as by a kind of hook.
They stretch out their hands toward you and adjure you to give one or two obols. Yet although they adjure you by your Lord, you pass by.
When someone adjures you by your eyes, by an absent husband, by a son, or by a daughter, you yield at once. Your heart is deeply moved and grows warm.
But when you are adjured by the Lord, you pass by.
I have known many women who, when they heard the name of Christ, passed by. But when those who approached them praised their beauty, they softened, melted with pleasure, and stretched out their hand.
Thus they themselves forced the wretched beggars to venture upon this ridiculous act.
Since they did not move their souls by using strong and sorrowful expressions, they had to resort to a device by which they could give them special pleasure.
Thus our great impiety has compelled even the poor man, tortured by hunger, to speak praises of our beauty when he asks for alms.
And would that this were all. But what is still more unbearable, this has forced the poor to become buffoons, foul talkers, and jesters.
A beggar shakes and turns little bowls, cups, or ladles in his hands, making them ring. Or, having a flute, he plays shameful and wanton songs on it and sings along with his voice.
Meanwhile a crowd surrounds him. Some give him a piece of bread, some an obol, and some something else. Men and women alike keep him there for a long time and amuse themselves with him.
What could be more unbearable than this? Is this not worthy of bitter tears?
Certainly these are small things, and they are considered small. Yet they produce great vices in our character.
Every shameful word and every seductive song weakens the heart and corrupts the very soul.
You do not count a beggar worthy even of a word when he calls upon God and asks countless blessings for you. But you gaze with amazement at someone who presents childish tricks instead.
Yet I will tell you what has now come into my mind to say to you. What is it?
When you fall into poverty or sickness, then you will learn to thank the Master not from anyone else, but precisely from the beggars who wander through the alleys.
They spend their whole life in poverty, yet they do not blaspheme. They are not vexed and do not murmur. Instead, they always speak of their poverty with thanksgiving, calling God great and loving toward mankind.
The man wasting away from hunger calls God loving toward mankind. But you, living in abundance, call Him cruel if you do not seize for yourself what belongs to all.
How far superior he is to you. How he will condemn us then.
God has ordained that the poor should be our common teachers throughout the whole world and our consolation in misfortune.
Perhaps you have suffered something you did not wish to suffer. But this cannot be compared with what he endures.
Have you lost an eye? He has lost both. Do you suffer from a long illness? He is held by an incurable disease. Have you lost your children? He has lost his bodily health.
Have you suffered a great loss? Yet you have not come to the point of needing others. Therefore give thanks to God.
You see that they are in the most extreme poverty, asking from everyone but receiving from few.
When you pray to exhaustion and do not receive what you ask, consider how many times you heard a beggar ask you and did not heed him. Yet he was not vexed and did not insult you.
You acted so through hardness of heart. But God, in His love for mankind, does even this: He does not heed you.
Therefore, if you do not consider yourself deserving of blame for not heeding a fellow servant through hardness of heart, can you blame the Master when He does not heed His servant through love for mankind?
Do you see what inequality, what injustice this is?
Let us constantly reflect on this, on those lower than ourselves and on those whom greater misfortune has overtaken. In this let us find an impulse to thank God.
There are very many such instructive examples in life. A watchful and attentive person can also learn much by looking at the houses of prayer.
Indeed, the poor sit in the vestibules of churches and at the tombs of the martyrs so that, seeing them, we may receive great benefit.
Consider that when we enter earthly royal palaces, we cannot see anything like this. From every side important, famous, wealthy, and intelligent men come to meet you.
But in truly royal palaces, that is, in churches and houses of prayer built over the tombs of the martyrs, there are the possessed, the poor, beggars, the aged, the blind, and the maimed.
Why is this so? First, so that when you enter with some arrogance, you may see them, lay aside arrogance, bring your heart to contrition, and only then enter and listen to what is read.
For one who prays with pride cannot be heard.
Next, it is so that when you see an old man, you should not be proud of youth. These old men also once were young.
Again, when you boast excessively in military rank and in the authority granted you by the king, you should consider that among them there are people who once were distinguished in the courts of kings.
Finally, when you trust in bodily health, you should pay attention to them and humble your pride.
Thus, by constantly coming here, the healthy person will not imagine too much about his health. The sick person will receive no small consolation.
They sit here not only for this, but also so that you may become more merciful and be inclined to mercy.
They are here also so that you may reverence the love of God for mankind. For if God is not ashamed of them, but has placed them in the vestibule of His house, much more should you not be ashamed of them.
Finally, they are here so that you may not be too proud of magnificent earthly palaces.
Therefore do not be ashamed when a beggar calls you by name. Do not push him away when he approaches you and embraces your knees.
For they are, in a certain sense, the admirable dogs of the royal palaces. I have called them dogs not because I wish to humble them. No, on the contrary, I wish to give them great praise.
They guard the palace of the King of heaven. Therefore feed them. By this you can give honor to the King Himself.
There, that is, in earthly royal palaces, everything is pride. Here everything is humble-mindedness.
From the very vestibules you fully learn that all human things are nothing. From those sitting there you learn that one cannot please God by wealth.
Their sitting and gathering serve as a kind of edification for the whole human race. They proclaim loudly that human affairs are nothing, that they are shadow and smoke.
If wealth were good, God would not have seated the poor in the vestibule of His house.
And if He admits the rich here too, do not be astonished. He admits them not so that they may remain rich, but so that they may lay aside pride.
Listen to what Christ says to them: “You cannot serve God and mammon” (Mt 6:24).
And again: “Jesus said to His disciples, Truly I say to you, it is hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”
And again Christ says to them: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God” (Mt 19:23-24).
He receives the rich here so that they may hear these words, may love eternal riches, and may desire the good things of heaven.
And what is astonishing in the fact that God does not deem the poor unworthy to sit in His vestibules?
He does not deem them unworthy to be called to His spiritual table and to become partakers of His supper.
On the contrary, the lame and maimed man, the old man dressed in rags, dirty and unkempt, approaches together with a handsome youth, even with one clothed in purple and wearing a diadem on his head.
They approach to share in the table and are counted worthy of the spiritual supper. Both groups are granted the same thing, and there is no difference.
Thus Christ does not deem them unworthy to be called to His table together with the king. Both they and he are called together.
But perhaps you consider it humiliating if others see you giving to beggars or speaking with them.
What arrogance, what conceit this is. Take care that we do not suffer the same thing that the rich man once suffered.
He also did not wish even to look at Lazarus and gave him neither lodging nor shelter. Lazarus lay outside his house, at the gate, and was not counted worthy of a single word from him.
But see how, when he had extreme need of his help, he likewise did not receive it.
If we are ashamed of those of whom Christ is not ashamed, then we are ashamed of Christ by being ashamed of His friends.
Let your table be filled with the lame and the maimed. Christ comes in their person, not in the person of the rich.
Perhaps you laugh when you hear this. Therefore, so that you may not think these are my words, listen to what Christ Himself says. Do not laugh, but tremble.