John Chrysostom
"Therefore put to death," he says. Who is so senseless as to buy slaves for a dead and buried body, or build houses, or prepare costly garments for it? No one.
Therefore we too must not act so. We usually desire only one thing: not to be naked. Let us seek this one thing here also.
Our first man has been buried, not in the earth, but in water. Death did not overcome him, but he was buried by the Conqueror of death.
This was not according to the law of nature, but according to the command of an authority stronger than nature.
What happens according to the laws of nature someone may still destroy. But what happens by His command no one can destroy.
Nothing is more blessed than this burial. All rejoice over it: angels, men, and the Master of the angels.
For this burial there is no need of garments, a coffin, or anything of the sort.
Do you wish to see a type? I shall show you the laver in which one was buried and another rose up.
In the Red Sea the Egyptians were drowned, while the Israelites came out of it.
From one and the same thing may come the burial of one and the birth of another.
Do not marvel that in baptism there is both birth and corruption.
Tell me, is not dissolution opposite to composition? This is evident to everyone.
Yet fire produces both. It melts and destroys wax, while it smelts gold-bearing ore and makes it gold.
So also here in baptism. The fiery power melted the waxen statue and revealed a golden one in its place.
Indeed, before baptism we were of clay. After baptism we are golden.
How is this clear? Hear what Paul himself says: "The first man was from the earth, earthy; the second Man is from heaven" (1 Cor 15:47).
I spoke of the distance between clay and gold. I find still greater difference between the heavenly and the earthly.
Clay does not differ from gold as much as the earthly differs from the heavenly.
We were waxen and earthen. From the flame of desire we melted far more than wax from fire.
Any temptation that met us shattered us far more than a stone shatters earthen vessels.
Let us depict, if you wish, our former life.
Was not everything in it earth, water, wind, and dust, unstable and passing away?
Let us consider, if you please, not the former life, but the present one.
Shall we not find that everything that exists is dust and water?
What else do you wish me to speak about? Offices and powers?
In this present life nothing, it seems, is pursued with such zeal as these.
Yet you would sooner see dust standing motionless in the air than constancy in them, especially in our time.
To whom are rulers not subject? To those who love them, to eunuchs who do everything for money, to the malice of the people, and to the anger of those more powerful.
Yesterday a man stood on the upper steps of the throne. He had heralds crying out loudly and many attendants marching proudly before him in the marketplace.
Today he is small, lowly, and deprived of all this. Everything has vanished like dust raised by the wind, like a wave carried away.
As our feet raise dust, so rulers are made by those who hold money in their hands.
Throughout their whole life they do what our feet do when raising dust.
Raised dust takes up much space in the air, though in itself it is little. Such is power.
As dust blinds the eyes, so the pride of power darkens the sight of the mind.
What then? Do you wish me to examine the object of desire, wealth?
Very well. Let us examine it part by part.
In it there are pleasures, honors, and power. First, if you wish, let us examine pleasures.
Are they not dust? Do they not pass away more quickly than dust?
Sweetness is pleasant while it is on the tongue. But when the stomach is filled, it is no longer on the tongue.
Yet honors, you say, are pleasant. But is anything more unpleasant than honor obtained by money?
If honor is obtained not by effort of will and virtue of soul, then it is not you who enjoy honor, but wealth.
Such honor makes the rich man more dishonored than anyone.
If, because you had a friend, everyone showed you respect, and all openly said that you yourself were worth nothing, what could dishonor you more?
They would say that they are forced to respect you because of your friend.
Therefore wealth, when honored more than its owners, is the cause of our dishonor.
It is testimony to weakness, not power.
Is it not foolish if we are considered unworthy of this earth and ashes, for such is gold, and yet receive honor because of it?
Truly it is better not to enjoy honor than to gain it in such a way.
But this is not so with the one who despises wealth.
If someone said to you, "I consider you worthy of no honor, but I respect you because of your servants," tell me, what dishonor could be worse?
If it is shameful to gain honor through slaves, who have the same soul and nature as we do, it is still more shameful to gain it through much lower things.
I mean the walls of houses, courtyards, golden vessels, and garments.
This is truly ridiculous and shameful. It is better to die than to enjoy such honor.
Tell me, if you, proud of your greatness, fell into danger, and some insignificant and despised man wished to deliver you, what could be worse for you?
What you tell one another about the city of Antioch, I wish to say to you.
Once our city offended the emperor, and the emperor ordered it all destroyed to its foundations, men, children, and dwellings.
Such is the anger of kings. They use power as they wish.
Such an evil thing is power.
So our city was in extreme danger. The neighboring maritime city sent intercessors to the king on our behalf.
The inhabitants of our city said that this was worse than the city's destruction.
Such honor is worse than dishonor.
See, then, where honor has its root.
The hands of cooks make us honored, and we owe thanks to them.
So do swineherds who provide a rich table, weavers, day laborers, metalworkers, pastry cooks, and those who prepare banquets.
Is it not better not to enjoy honor than to owe gratitude for it to such people?
Even apart from this, I shall try to show clearly that the acquisition of wealth is joined to great dishonor.
It makes the soul vile. What is more dishonorable than this?
Tell me, if wealth approached a well-formed and most beautiful body and announced that it would make it vile, what would you say?
It would make it sick instead of healthy, swollen instead of well proportioned.
It would fill all its members with dropsy, puff up the face, stretch it in every direction, swell the feet, and make them heavier than logs.
It would distend the belly until it was larger than any barrel.
Then it would announce that, if anyone wanted to heal it, it would not permit him. Such, it would say, is its will.
Finally, it would come to such self-will that it would punish anyone approaching the body to heal it.
Tell me, what cruelty could be greater?
If wealth acts this way with the soul, what good is it?
Its power is worse than disease. If a sick man does not listen to the prescriptions of physicians, this is worse than the disease.
Wealth does exactly this. It inflames the soul from every side and does not allow physicians to approach it.
Let us therefore not call the rich blessed for their power, but let us pity them.
If I see a man with dropsy using whatever drinks and harmful foods he wants, and no one can forbid him, I will not call him happy because of his power.
Power, like honors, is not always good, because it puffs up the soul.
You would surely not consent for the body to receive such a disease along with wealth.
How then can you be careless about the soul, which with wealth receives not only disease, but also another punishment?
Fevers and inflammations burn it from every side, and no one can extinguish this heat.
Wealth does not allow it, since it considers gain what is truly loss: to be subject to nothing and to do everything by one's own will.
No one's soul is filled with so many senseless desires as the souls of those who wish to grow rich.
What absurdities do they not imagine?
Everyone will agree that they invent far more than those who invent hippocentaurs, chimeras, beasts with serpents for feet, Scyllas, and monsters.
If you wish to imagine one of their desires, you will see that it is such a monster that Scylla, Chimera, and the hippocentaur are nothing in comparison.
You will find that it contains all beasts within itself.
Someone may perhaps think that I myself possessed great riches, since I depict the life of the rich so accurately.
They tell a story, and to confirm my words I shall first cite something from Greek songs.
They say that one of their kings became so crazed by luxury that he ordered a plane tree made of gold, higher than heaven.
He sat beneath it while fighting enemies skilled in war.
Is such a whim not worth hippocentaurs or Scyllas?
Another threw people inside a wooden bull. Is this not Scylla?
Wealth made one of the most ancient kings and warriors a woman instead of a man.
Why do I say a woman? It made him an irrational beast, and worse than that.
For beasts, when they are beneath trees, keep their natural inclinations and desire nothing more.
But he surpassed even the nature of beasts.
Is it not extreme madness, then, to gather wealth?
The cause of everything is the immoderation of desires.
But you will say that many admire the rich man.
Yes, and for this reason they become subject to the same ridicule as he.
It is not wealth that is presented to the eyes here, but madness.
Is not a plane tree grown from the earth far better than that golden one?
Everything according to nature is more pleasant than what is contrary to nature.
Why did you want a golden sky, madman?
Do you see how great wealth drives people to madness? How it puffs them up?
I think it does not yet know the sea, and soon it will want to walk upon it.
Is this not Chimera? Is this not hippocentaur?
There are such people even now, in no way inferior to them, and even more mad.
Tell me, how do those who make golden pitchers, pots, and vessels differ in madness from the golden plane tree?
How do those women differ from it who, shameful as it is necessary to say, make silver chamber pots?
You who do this ought to be ashamed.
Christ hungers, and you indulge in such luxury. Better said, you are mad.
What punishment do they not deserve?
And you still ask why there are robbers, murderers, and disasters, when the devil has so possessed you?
Even to have silver dishes is unbecoming to a philosophical soul. All this is luxury.
But to make unclean vessels of silver, is this not luxury?
I will not call it luxury, but madness. Not madness, but frenzy, and worse than frenzy.
I know that many laugh at me for this.
But I will not cease speaking, if only I may bring benefit.
Truly, wealth makes people mad and frenzied.
If they had such power, they would wish the earth to be gold and the walls to be gold.
Perhaps they would wish heaven and the air to be made of gold.
What insanity. What lawlessness. What fever.
Another man, created according to the image of God, is perishing from cold, and you introduce such whims.
O pride! Can a madman do more than this?
You honor your excretions so much that you collect them in silver.
I know that you are horrified at my words. But the women who do such things should be horrified, and the men who indulge such diseases.
This is unbridledness, savagery, inhumanity, brutality, and shamelessness.
What Scylla, what Chimera, what dragon, or rather what demon, what devil, would act in such a way?
What profit have you from Christ? What profit from faith, when some pagan is more tolerable, or not even a pagan, but a demon?
If the head must not be adorned with gold and stones, can one expect forgiveness who uses silver for such filthy needs?
Is it not enough that other things, though this too is unbearable, chairs and benches, are all of silver?
This too is madness. Everywhere there is excessive splendor and vainglory.
Nowhere is there what need requires. Everywhere there is excess.
I fear that women, continuing in such madness, may become like monsters.