Where the passions are, blessed peace flees from there. It settles where dispassion is. People seized by passions never have peace, because they are continually shaken and tossed by the storm of their passions.
The one most dispassionate and all-holy God has most perfect peace. He is peace itself, because He is dispassion itself. He is 'the Prince of Peace' (Is 9:6), as Isaiah said, that is, the beginning, root, and source of peace.
Since 'of His peace there is no end' (Is 9:7), and He is unlimited and boundless, His peace is poured out and extends also to the human race. His Only-begotten Son, coming into the world, poured out peace. By offering Himself as a sacrifice on the Cross, He made peace for those afar and those near, that is, for the two opposing peoples, Gentile and Jewish. He reconciled and made the whole human race friends with God.
That Christ is our peace was shown very clearly by the wise Paul in the Epistle read today, where he set it forth as the theme of his discourse (Eph 2:14). Truly Christ is our peace, for He is the giver of true peace. He alone both gave and still pours into our hearts the great gift of true peace.
The world also promises peace, but worldly peace is one thing, and the peace of God is another. The God-man taught this plainly when He gave His peace to His disciples. He then said to them: 'Not as the world gives do I give to you' (Jn 14:27).
The peace of the world is not peace, but rebellion and disturbance. It is not peace, but harm and destruction. Listen with what precision the all-good God proved this.
Poverty, says the world, has constraints, needs, and sorrows. This troubles the heart and steals calm from man. But if you are rich, then you will do whatever you wish and whatever you desire. From this your heart will be peaceful and your soul at rest.
This instruction of the world is sweet. Therefore, when we hear it, we become convinced that in wealth we shall find the peace and rest we seek. But the all-generous God, to show how deceptive this worldly teaching is, presented to us in His Gospel the condition of a certain rich man.
'The land of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully,' He said (Lk 12:16). That man was rich, and when his land produced fruit, he became richer. What did his great wealth give him? Did it bring him stillness? No. It produced many thoughts in him. 'He thought within himself,' it says (Lk 12:17).
Did it bring rest? No. It brought great perplexity. 'What shall I do,' he said, 'for I have nowhere to gather my fruits?' He says, What shall I do, just as the poor man does. He is constrained, and says, I do not have, just as the needy man does.
He is perplexed by abundance, as the poor man is by lack. He is perplexed because wealth has increased, as the poor man is perplexed because poverty has increased. Yet he found a solution to his perplexity: 'I will do this. I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will gather all my grain and my goods' (Lk 12:18).
But the pulling down and building of barns, and the gathering and placing of grain and other goods in them, is not rest but care. It is not stillness of heart, but disturbance.
At last he finds rest and peace. Where? Not in things, but in his fantasy. He finds repose not in the present time, which is in his power, but in a future that is unknown and not at all in his power.
'I will say to my soul,' he says, 'Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years. Take your rest, eat, drink, and be merry' (Lk 12:19). But when will this repose and merriment be? When he has pulled down the barns and built larger ones. When he has gathered all his grain and goods there.
Did the time he expected ever come? 'Fool,' the Lord said to him, 'this night your soul will be required of you. Then whose will those things be which you have prepared?' (Lk 12:20). That wretched man never enjoyed the rest and peace expected from wealth. Having spent his whole life in cares, labors, disturbances, and confusions, he died suddenly.
So it is, the Lord declared, with one who seeks wealth for his own repose and is not rich toward God, that is, in virtue. 'So is he who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God' (Lk 12:21).
The divine Apostle Paul, listing the misfortunes into which those fall who obey the counsel of the world and wish to be rich in order to enjoy calm and rest, assures his readers that the teaching of the world is deceptive. 'Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful desires, which plunge men into ruin and destruction' (1 Tim 6:9).
Every day before our eyes we see the truth of the words of Jesus Christ and Paul. We see lovers of wealth growing rich and never being satisfied. Day and night they think how they might gather wealth and multiply their treasures.
We see them tearing down their barns and their houses, and building more spacious ones. We hear them saying, When I have done this, built that, and finished the other thing, then I shall be at ease and rest.
We hear them speak of calm and repose, yet never obtain it. From day to day they postpone the time, until death comes and seizes them amid the very cares, anxieties, and disturbances that come from love of wealth.
How many do we see falling into the temptation of disputes, quarrels with one another, and enmities for the sake of acquiring wealth. They are caught in the snares of cunning, lies, deceit, injustice, and perjury. They irrationally desire harmful things that plunge them into spiritual disorder and destruction.
These are the fruits of the world’s teachings. Such is the repose and peace that wealth gives to those who seek it there.
While you restrain yourself, says the world, and hinder the fulfillment of your desire, that desire grows stronger and burns more fiercely. Therefore it disturbs your stillness and destroys your rest. Enjoy the sweetness of your desire, so that you may have stillness, rest, and peace.
This teaching is most sweet to the flesh, and therefore many listen to it with joy. This bait is exceedingly sweet and alluring, and therefore many are attracted and caught by it.
But the greatly compassionate God has presented to us what happened to such a man, who broke the bonds of continence and threw the bridle from his desires. This is the prodigal son. His story is known to all.
Having received his share of the father’s estate, he went 'into a far country' (Lk 15:13), so that, as one unknown, he might fulfill every desire of his flesh with complete freedom. Much eating, much drinking, dancing, singers, musicians, harlots, and whatever else his fleshly desire required, all this was his every day. This is what the words mean: 'He squandered his estate, living prodigally.'
What rest did he find from this? What stillness, or what peace? When he lived in his father’s house with continence and chastity, he was a master. When he became incontinent and dissolute, he became a slave and a swineherd. His master 'sent him into his fields to feed swine.'
When he conquered his passions, he had enough of everything needed. But when he practiced the works of dissipation, 'he desired to fill his belly with the pods that the swine ate, and no one gave him anything.' Therefore he groaned and said: 'How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, while I perish with hunger?' (Lk 15:15-17).
Hear his condition. Hear his stillness. Hear his peace. We all see many such examples every day. Such is the rest and peace that the world gives.
Brethren, whoever seeks peace from the world is like a man who wishes 'to gather figs from thorns and grapes from a bramble bush' (Lk 6:44). The whole world lies in evil (1 Jn 5:19). Evil is disturbance, storm, and rebellion. Therefore worldly things bring neither rest nor peace.
God alone, the author of peace, sends it down into the hearts of men according to His love for mankind. But how does such a sending down take place? Is it through angels, as He proclaimed peace to all the earth when His Only-begotten Son was born? (Lk 2:17). Or through a word, as Christ gave it to the sinful woman and likewise to the woman with the issue of blood, saying: 'Go in peace' (Lk 7:50; Lk 8:48)?
Did He give it to His holy disciples when, before His Passion, He said: 'Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you' (Jn 14:27), and also after the Resurrection, saying: 'Peace be to you' (Jn 20:19)? Or does He give it through His disciples, according to the promise He gave them when He said: 'Whatever house you enter, first say, Peace to this house' (Lk 10:5)? Or through the mouths of their successors, when they say, Peace be to all?
Truly, through these also God grants men the great gift of peace. Yet there is another way, more general and more effective, which He declared by the mouth of the holy king and prophet David. 'Great peace have those who love Your law,' he said, 'and there is no stumbling for them' (Ps 118:165).
It is known that whoever loves the law of God loves God. He loves God who keeps His commandments. 'He who has My commandments and keeps them,' said the Lord, 'it is he who loves Me' (Jn 14:21).
Thus the words of the holy Prophet mean this: great peace belongs not to those who sin, but to those who keep God’s laws. 'There is no stumbling for them,' that is, nothing in the world can disturb or shake the peaceful and quiet state of their soul.
Truly, as long as we withdraw from the uncleanness of sins and remain firm in the purity of virtue, the peace of God dwells in our hearts. But when sin defiles the soul, peace immediately flees from us and confusion enters. The calm of conscience departs, and sinful rebellion enters our heart.
To be assured of this, ascend in thought to heaven and look at those holy lights, second after the primordial light of the Godhead, I mean the angelic orders. There you will see a kingdom of peace.
All those immaterial spirits are undisturbed, peaceful, and at rest. Consecrated to the service of the supersubstantial, single, and tri-hypostatic Godhead, with one soul, one thought, one will, and one voice, they ever sing, cry, and say: Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Sabaoth. The whole earth is full of His glory (Is 6:3).
There, truly, the peace of God reigns. But for how long? As long as sinlessness reigns. But alas. The sin of pride enters there, no one knows how. The Morning Star becomes proud and says in his mind: 'I will ascend above the clouds. I will be like the Most High' (Is 14:14).
This sin drove out peace and brought disturbance and rebellion. At once the angelic ranks were torn into two parts. One rank remained unshaken in virtue, and therefore firm in peace. The other was shaken and followed the proud thoughts of the Morning Star. Therefore it was disturbed and fell from heaven to earth.
'How have you fallen from heaven, O Morning Star, rising at dawn? You are crushed upon the earth, you who sent to all nations' (Is 14:12). He fell at once like lightning: 'I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven' (Lk 10:18).
Now bring your thought down from heaven into Paradise, and behold our Forefather. He has peace there, peace far from the disturbance of passions, perfect peace with his own conscience and with God. But he inclines to the counsel of the Foremother, deceived by the serpent, eats the forbidden fruit, and, transgressing the divine commandment, falls into the sin of disobedience.
As soon as he and the Foremother committed this sin, behold, the warfare of the passions at once rose against them. Shame embraced them. 'The eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. They sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings' (Gen 3:7).
Fear and the most grievous accusation of conscience took possession of them. 'They heard the voice of the Lord God walking in Paradise in the afternoon, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the face of the Lord God among the trees of Paradise' (Gen 3:8).