THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
Thus they spoke, and thus they exhorted them. The writer says that they were 'strengthening the souls of the disciples.' In this way they were strengthened and joined themselves still more firmly.
They foretold sufferings to them, so that they would not be scandalized. The same thing had to happen not only to the apostles, but also to the disciples. From the very beginning they had to know the power of the preaching, and that they too must suffer. They had to stand courageously, not merely marveling at signs, but being strengthened even more against temptations.
For this reason he himself said, 'having the same conflict which you saw in me, and now hear to be in me' (Phil 1:30). Truly, affliction is a great good, and the ornament of a great and noble soul. See how many believed afterward, and how no one was so glorified.
So we too always need zeal, great fervor of soul, and readiness for death. It is impossible to receive the kingdom except through the Cross. Let us not deceive ourselves. In war one cannot be saved while giving oneself to luxury, caring for possessions, trading, and remaining careless. Much less can this happen in the present warfare.
Or do you think this warfare is not harsher than all others? 'Our warfare,' says the Apostle, 'is not against flesh and blood' (Eph 6:12). Whether we dine, walk, or wash, the enemy always stands beside us. He knows no time of rest, except perhaps during sleep. Yet often even then he attacks, implanting impure thoughts and stirring our passions through dreams.
We think lightly of the very things for which he attacks us. We do not watch, we are not sober, and we do not look at the multitude of powers hostile to us. We do not consider that this itself is the greatest calamity. Amid so many battles, we give ourselves to luxury, as though in peace.
Believe me, even now one can endure sufferings more bitter than those Paul endured. Then they stoned him. Now one can be struck by words heavier than stones. What, then, must be done? What he did. He did not hate those who stoned him. After they dragged him out, he entered the city again, in order to benefit those who had so insulted him.
If you have endured insult from one who wronged you unjustly, you too have been, as it were, stoned. Do not say, 'I have done nothing wrong.' What did Paul do to deserve being stoned? He preached the kingdom, turned people from error, and brought them to God. This deserved crowns, glory, and countless rewards, not stones. Yet he endured the opposite.
This is the splendid victory. The writer says, 'They dragged him out.' You too are often dragged about. Yet do not be angry. Preach the word of God through meekness. Has someone insulted you? Be silent. Bless him if you can. In this way you too will proclaim the word of God, teach meekness, and instill humility.
I know many who suffer less from wounds than from insulting words. A wound touches the body, but an insult touches the soul. Yet let us not be distressed. Rather, when we are insulted, let us endure. Do you not see how athletes, wounded in the head and losing their teeth, calmly bear their pains?
Here there is no need to gnash the teeth, nor to bite with them. Remember your Master, and this remembrance will at once become healing for you. Remember Paul. Consider that when you receive the wound, you remain the victor, while the one who inflicts it is defeated. By this you will heal everything.
Do not be carried away in the first moment, and you will at once set everything right. Do not yield to the first impulse, and you will extinguish everything. It is a great consolation to suffer something for Christ. If you do not proclaim the word of faith, you proclaim the word of wisdom.
But you say, the more the offender sees meekness, the more he attacks. Are you grieved because he increases your rewards? But, they say, he becomes unrestrained. This is an excuse for your faintheartedness. On the contrary, he becomes unrestrained when you take revenge.
If God knew that offenders became unrestrained because of non-retaliation, He would not have commanded it. He would have said, 'Avenge yourself.' But He knows that it brings greater benefit. Do not lay down laws contrary to God. Obey Him. You are not wiser than the One who made us.
He said, 'Endure insults.' You say, 'I will avenge myself on the offender, lest he become unrestrained.' Do you then care for him more than God does? These are words of passion, perversity, pride, and resistance to the commandments of God.
Even if he were harmed by it, should one not still obey? When God commands something, we must not lay down laws contrary to Him. 'A soft answer,' says the Wise One, 'turns away wrath' (Prov 15:1). This is what a humble answer does, not a contentious one.
If this is useful for you, it is useful for him also. If it is harmful for you, who think you are correcting him, then it is even more harmful for him. 'Physician, heal Thyself' (Lk 4:23). Did he speak evil of you? Praise him. Did he revile you? Extol him. Did he plot evil? Do him good.
Render him the opposite, if you truly care for his salvation. Do not try to satisfy your passion for revenge. But you say, after repeatedly testing my longsuffering, he became worse. That concerns him, not you.
Do you wish to know what God endured? They destroyed His altars and killed His prophets (Rom 11:3), yet He endured everything. Could He not have sent down lightning from above? Yet after they killed the prophets He had sent, He sent His Son. When they showed greater impiety, He showed benefactions.
So also, when you see an angry man hardened, yield then all the more. His very hardness needs greater concession. The more fiercely he insults, the more he needs meekness. As fever, when it especially increases, then needs calm, so does the hardened man.
When a beast has become exceedingly savage, we all flee from it. So also with an angry man. Do not think this honors him. Do we wish to honor a beast or a madman when we flee from them? Not at all. This is dishonor and reproach. Or rather, it is not dishonor and reproach, but condescension and love for mankind.
Do you not see how sailors, when a strong wind rises, lower the sails so that the ship is not sunk? A rider, when horses bolt with him, gives them their head and does not restrain them, lest he exhaust his strength in vain. Do the same.
Anger is fire, a strong flame that demands fuel. Do not give food to the fire, and you will soon end the evil. Anger has no strength by itself, unless someone else sustains it. Nothing can justify you.
The other man is seized by frenzy and does not know what he is doing. But if you, looking at him, fall into the same thing and do not become wise through his example, can you obtain forgiveness? Suppose a man at a banquet saw another in the entrance drunk and disgraceful, and then himself fell into the same condition. Would this not be all the more unforgivable, since he became drunk afterward?
So it is here. Let us not think we can say in defense, 'I did not begin.' This only accuses us, because, seeing him, we did not become wise. It is like someone saying, 'I was not the first to kill.' For this very reason you deserve punishment, because you saw the example and did not restrain yourself.
If you saw a drunkard vomiting, suffering, tearing himself, bulging his eyes, filling the table with filth, and everyone fleeing from him, and then you fell into the same state, would you not be even more loathsome?
Such is the angry man. He strains his sinews more than one who vomits. He inflames his eyes and is torn in his inward parts. He spews out words far fouler than that food. He says everything undigested and nothing sound, because anger prevents it.
There, an excess of humors often irritates the stomach and completely empties it. Here, an excess of heat disturbs the soul and does not allow it to conceal what would be better left unsaid. The angry man says everything, both what should and should not be said. He shames not his hearers, but himself.
As we flee from those who vomit, so we flee from the angry. What do we do then? We sprinkle ashes on their vomit and quietly call dogs to eat what has been cast up. I know you hear this with disgust. But I want you to feel the same when you see that condition, and not to delight in it.
The angry man is more unclean than the dog that returns to its own vomit (2 Pet 2:22). If he had vomited once and stopped, he would not be like it. But if he again vomits the same thing, it is clear that he has devoured what he vomited.
What is more foul than this? What is more unclean than a mouth that devours such food? Moreover, the first is a work of nature, but the latter is not. Or rather, both are contrary to nature.
How so? To be angry without cause (Mt 5:22) is not proper to nature, but contrary to it. For that reason he says nothing as a man. He says some things like a beast, and others like a madman. As bodily disease is contrary to nature, so is this.
That this is contrary to nature is clear from this: if he remains long in such a condition, little by little he will perish. But no one perishes by remaining long in what is according to nature. I would rather share a table with a man who feeds on filth than with one who speaks such words.
Do you not see how swine devour dung? So do these men. What, indeed, is more shameful than the words angry men utter? They seem to try to say nothing sound, nothing pure. Whatever is shameful and disgraceful, that they strive to say and do.
Worst of all, while they shame themselves most of all, they think they are shaming others. That they shame themselves is clear from what has been said. Do not object that they speak falsehood. Suppose a notorious harlot, or someone else who performs in the spectacles, quarrels with someone. Suppose this one says such words to him, and he says the same to this one.
Which of them will be more insulted by such words? The first hears what is in him. The other hears what is not in him. Thus nothing is added to the first man's shame, but much is added to the other's.
But suppose there really are certain deeds known only to the angry man. Suppose he, having kept silent before, reveals them in anger. Even then he harms himself more. How? By becoming a herald of evil, and by earning the reputation of being shameless and untrustworthy.
He will see everyone immediately reproach him and say everywhere, 'If he knew even of a murder, he would reveal that too.' All will turn away from him as from something inhuman. They will hate him and call him a savage and wild beast. They will forgive the other man sooner than him.
We do not turn away so much from those who have wounds as from those who try to uncover and display them. So he insults not only that man, but himself, his hearers, and the whole human nature. He has struck the hearer and done nothing good.
For this reason Paul says, 'that utterance may be given to me, that I may open my mouth boldly to make known the mystery of the gospel' (Eph 6:19). Let us have a tongue that speaks what is good, so that we may gain love and goodwill.
Yet the evil has gone so far that many boast of what they ought to be ashamed of. Many utter this threat: 'You will not withstand my tongue.' Such words belong to a drunken and disorderly woman, to a worthless old woman being chased through the marketplace.
There is nothing more shameful than these words. There is nothing more unworthy of a man, nothing more effeminate, than to place one's strength in the tongue and boast in slander, like performers in the spectacles, jesters, parasites, and flatterers. Those who boast of this are more swine than men.
You ought to hide this even from yourself. If someone else said this about you, you ought to flee from his words as hostile and unworthy of a man. Yet you yourself become the herald of reproaches. But you will not harm the one who hears evil from you.