John Chrysostom
Then he adds confirmation, so that it may be not only a hope, but a hope wholly true. After the oath he brings forward something else, namely proof from deeds: "where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us."
A forerunner is one who goes before someone, as John was Christ's forerunner. He does not simply say, "He entered," but, "He entered as a forerunner for us." Therefore we also must follow Him. There must not be a great distance between the forerunner and those who follow him. Otherwise he would not be a forerunner. The forerunner and those following him must be on the same path. The work of the first is to go ahead, and that of the latter is to follow him.
"Having become," he says, "High Priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek." Here is yet another consolation. Our High Priest is higher and far better than the Jewish high priests, not only in the manner of His appointment, but also in place, tabernacle, covenant, and person. Yet this is said of Christ according to the flesh.
Therefore those for whom He is High Priest must also be better. As great as the difference is between Aaron and Christ, so great must the difference be between us and the Jews.
See, we have the sacrificial Lamb above, the High Priest above, the sacrifice above. Therefore we must offer sacrifices fit to be placed upon such an altar, not sheep and oxen, not blood and fat. All this has ceased, and in its place the rational service has been introduced.
What is the rational service? It is the service of the soul, the spiritual service. "God," Scripture says, "is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth" (Jn 4:24). Such service needs neither body, instruments, nor places. Such are meekness, chastity, mercy, guilelessness, longsuffering, and humility of mind.
Such sacrifices were long ago foretold in the Old Covenant. "Offer to God," David says, "sacrifices of righteousness" (Ps 4:6). Again, "I will offer to You the sacrifice of praise" (Ps 115:8). Again, "He who offers praise as a sacrifice glorifies Me" (Ps 49:23). Again, "A sacrifice to God is a broken spirit" (Ps 50:19). Again, "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love works of mercy, and to walk humbly before your God?" (Mic 6:8).
"Sacrifice and offering You did not desire; You opened my ears. Burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin You did not require. Then I said, Behold, I come. In the scroll of the book it is written of me: I desire to do Your will, O my God, and Your law is in my heart" (Ps 39:7-9).
Again, "What need have I of frankincense that comes from Sheba?" (Jer 6:20). And another prophet says, "Take away from Me the noise of your songs, for I will not hear the sound of your harps" (Am 5:23). Instead, "I desire mercy, and not sacrifice" (Hos 6:6).
Do you see with what sacrifices God must be well pleased? Do you see that those sacrifices have long since ceased, and these have been introduced in their place? These, then, let us offer.
Those were sacrifices of the wealthy and well supplied. These are sacrifices of virtue. Those were outward, these inward. Those could be offered by everyone, but these by few. As much as a man is better than a sheep, so much higher is this sacrifice than that one. Here you offer your own soul as a sacrifice.
There are also other sacrifices, true whole burnt offerings. These are the bodies of the holy martyrs. In them both soul and body are holy, and they are filled with a great fragrance. You too, if you wish, can offer such a sacrifice.
How can you do this when you cannot give your body to be burned? You can give yourself to another fire, for example, the fire of voluntary poverty, or the fire of sorrow. When a man can live in luxury and splendor, yet mortifies himself by an ascetical and sorrowful life, is this not a whole burnt offering?
Mortify your body and crucify it, and you also will receive the crown of martyrdom. What the sword accomplishes there, let zeal accomplish here. Let love of money not kindle and seize you. Rather, let this mad passion be burned up and destroyed by spiritual fire. Let it be cut away by the sword of the Spirit.
This is a good sacrifice. It needs no priest, but only the one who offers it. It is a beautiful sacrifice, performed on earth, yet immediately received in heaven. Do we not marvel that in ancient times fire came down and consumed everything (3 Kingdoms 18:38)?
Even now a fire can come down, far more wondrous, and consume all that is offered. Or rather, it does not consume it, but bears it up to heaven. It does not turn the gifts into ashes, but brings them to God.
Such were the offerings of Cornelius. "Your prayer," it was said to him, "and your alms have been remembered before God" (Acts 10:31). See what a beautiful union this is. We are heard when we ourselves hear the poor who come to us.
"He who stops his ear," Scripture says, "at the cry of the poor, God will not hear his prayer" (Prov 21:13). "Blessed is he who considers the poor. In the day of trouble the Lord will deliver him" (Ps 40:2). This is no ordinary day, but that day which will be grievous for sinners.
What does "considers" mean? It means one who understands what a poor man is, who enters into his distress. Whoever has grasped his distress will surely at once show him mercy.
When you see a poor man, do not turn away from him. At once consider what you yourself would be if you were in his place, and what you would want to receive from everyone. "He considers," he says.
Consider that he too is free, just as you are. He has the same noble nature as you, and everything he has in common with you. Yet you often do not rank him, who is in no way worse than you, even with your dogs. They are fully satisfied with bread, while he often falls asleep hungry. Thus a free man becomes lower than your slaves.
But the slaves, you say, render us services. What services? Tell me. Do they serve you well? But if I prove that he renders you far greater service than they do, what will you say? He will stand before you on the day of judgment and deliver you from the fire.
Can all your slaves do anything like this? When Tabitha died (Acts 9:36-42), who raised her up? Was it the slaves who surrounded her, or the poor? Yet you do not wish to place a free man even on a level with slaves.
The cold is severe. A poor man lies on the pavement, clothed in rags, dying from the cold, gnashing his teeth, arousing pity by his appearance and clothing. But you, warmly clothed and drunk, pass by without paying attention to him. How then do you wish God to deliver you when you are in misfortune?
You often say, "If I were in such a situation, and someone had sinned greatly against me, I would forgive him. Will not God forgive me?" Do not say this. You yourself despise one who has not sinned against you in anything, and whom you could help. If you despise such a man, how will God forgive your sins against Him?
Does this not deserve Gehenna? And here is something strange. Often you cover a dead, lifeless body, which no longer feels honor, with many varied and gilded garments. But a suffering, sick body, tormented and wasted by hunger and cold, you despise. You please vainglory more than the fear of God.
And would that this were all. Immediately reproaches begin against the poor man who approaches. Why, you say, does he not work? Why does he eat bread without laboring?
But tell me, did you acquire what you have by your own labors? Did you not receive a paternal inheritance? Even if you did labor, can you therefore reproach another? Have you not heard Paul's words: "But you, brethren, do not grow weary in doing good"? He says this after saying, "If anyone will not work, neither let him eat" (2 Thess 3:13, 10).
But he is a deceiver, you say. What are you saying, man? For the sake of one loaf and one garment you call him a deceiver? But he will sell it at once, you say. Do you yourself manage all your property well?
What then? Have all the poor become poor through idleness? Has no one become poor from shipwrecks, from courts, from thieves, from misfortunes, from illnesses, or from any other circumstances?
Meanwhile, when we hear a poor man lamenting such misfortunes, crying out loudly, lifting his eyes to heaven, bareheaded, with disheveled hair and clothed in rags, we immediately call him a deceiver, a rogue, and a hypocrite. Are you not ashamed? Whom do you call a deceiver? If you do not wish to give anything, at least do not insult the man.
But, you say, he has means and is pretending. This condemns you, not him. He knows that he is dealing with hardhearted people, with beasts rather than men. He knows that, however many pitiful words he speaks, he will move no one. Therefore he is forced to assume an even more wretched appearance, in order to bend your soul.
When we see someone approach us in decent clothing, we say, "He is a deceiver. He comes in this guise to show that he is of noble birth." When we see someone in the opposite kind of clothing, we reproach him too. What then are they to do?
O cruelty! O insensibility! Why, you say, do they expose their maimed limbs? For your sake. If we were compassionate, they would not need to resort to such means. If they could move us at first sight, they would not contrive such things.
What unfortunate man would choose to cry out so, to assume a repulsive appearance, to weep before everyone with his naked wife, and to sprinkle himself with ashes together with his children? What could be worse than such extremity? Yet even for this we not only do not show them compassion, but even condemn them.
How then can we be indignant that God does not heed our prayers? How can we murmur that He does not satisfy our petitions? Is this not fearful, beloved?
But, you say, I have often given. Do you not eat every day? Do you drive away your children, even though they often ask you? O shamelessness! You call the poor man shameless. You yourself seize what belongs to others and do not consider yourself shameless. Yet the one who asks for bread is shameless?
Do you not know how strong the need of the stomach is? Do you not do everything for it? Do you not abandon spiritual things for its sake? Heaven and the kingdom of heaven have been promised to you. Yet when you submit to its compulsion, do you not endure everything and neglect what was promised? This is true shamelessness.
Do you not see maimed old men? Yet, O slander, you say, this one lends so many gold coins, and that one so many, while they beg for alms. You tell fables and children's tales, such as they always hear from their nurses. I do not think it, I do not believe it; it cannot be.
Someone lends money at interest and, though he has enough, begs for alms? Tell me, why would he do this? What can be more shameful than begging? Better to die than to beg.
How long shall we remain hardhearted? What then? Do they all lend money at interest? Are they all deceivers? Is there not one truly poor man? There are, you say, and many. Why then do you not help them, if you know their life precisely? No, this is a pretext and an excuse.
"Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wishes to borrow from you" (Mt 5:42; Lk 6:30). "Let not your hand be stretched out to receive and closed when it is time to give" (Sir 4:35).
We have not been appointed judges of the lives of others. Otherwise we shall give alms to no one. When you pray to God, do you not say, "Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions" (Ps 24:7)? Think the same about the poor man, even if he is a great sinner, and do not remember his sins.
Now is the time for love for mankind, not strict judgment. It is the time for mercy, not condemnation. He wants to eat. If you wish, give to him. If you do not wish, refuse, without investigating why he is poor and miserable.
Why do you not give to him yourself, and also turn away those who wish to give? When someone hears from you that this poor man is a deceiver, and that one a hypocrite or usurer, he will give to neither. He will think that they are all such.