THEOSISJohn Chrysostom
Again the Apostle begins to speak of the resurrection, because the hope of the resurrection especially encourages the hearer and strengthens him by Christ's example. Do not fear, he says, that you are clothed with a mortal body. Have the Spirit within yourself, and the body will surely rise.
What then? Will bodies that do not have the Spirit not rise? How then must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ? How will the teaching about Gehenna be trustworthy? If those who do not have the Spirit do not rise, then there is no Gehenna. What, then, does the Apostle's saying mean? All will rise, but not all to life. Some will rise to punishment, and others to life. For this reason he did not say, 'He will raise,' but 'He will give life.' This signifies more than resurrection, and it is granted only to the righteous. Indicating the cause of this honor, he added: 'through His Spirit dwelling in you.'
Therefore, if while living here you lose the grace of the Spirit and die without preserving it whole, you will undoubtedly perish, though you will rise. In the same way, when Christ sees His Spirit shining in you, He will not wish to hand you over to punishment. But when He sees that He has been extinguished in you, He will not consent to bring you into the bridal chamber, just as with the foolish virgins.
Therefore do not allow the body to live now, so that it may live then. Make it die, so that it may not die afterward. If it remains alive, it will not live. If it dies, then it will live. The same will occur at the universal resurrection. The body must first die and be buried, and then become immortal. The same was accomplished in baptism. First the human being is crucified and buried, and then he rises. The same took place with the Lord's body. It too was crucified and buried, and then it rose.
Let us also do this. Let us continually put the body to death in its deeds. I say this not about the substance of the body. Far be it. I speak about its inclinations toward wicked deeds. To endure nothing merely human and not to serve pleasures is also life. Rather, this alone is life. The man who has submitted to pleasures can no longer even live, because of the anxieties, fears, dangers, and countless swarm of passions that arise from them. If the thought of death comes to him, he has already died from fear before death. If sickness, injury, poverty, or anything unexpected appears in his mind, he has already perished and been destroyed.
What could be more miserable than such a life? But he who lives by the Spirit is not like this. He stands above fears, grief, dangers, and every change. He suffers nothing, and what is far greater, he despises whatever may happen. How does this come about? It comes about if the Spirit constantly dwells in us. The Apostle did not simply say that the Spirit should remain in us for a short time, but that He should always dwell there. Therefore he did not say, 'the Spirit who dwelt,' but 'the Spirit who dwells,' signifying continual abiding. Thus the one who has died to life is especially the one who lives by the Spirit. For this reason the Apostle also said: 'the spirit is life because of righteousness' (Rom 8:10).
To make this clearer, let us imagine two men. One is devoted to luxury, pleasures, and worldly charm. The other is dead to all this. Let us see which of them lives more. Let one of these two be very rich and distinguished. He feeds parasites and flatterers, feasts and drinks to excess, and spends whole days in this. Let the other live in poverty, fasting, other austerity, and philosophy. Only in the evening does he take necessary food, or, if you wish, he does not eat for two or three days. Which of these two lives more? I know well that many will point to the one who makes merry and squanders his possessions. But we call the one who is satisfied with moderation alive.
If dispute and contradiction still arise, let us enter each one's dwelling at the very time of merriment, when the rich man, in your opinion, is living in the fullest sense. Let us enter and see in what state each one is. From their deeds it will be seen who is alive and who is dead. We shall find one with books, in prayer and fasting, or keeping vigil over some other necessary work. He is sober and converses with God. We shall find the other sunk in drunkenness and in a state no better than that of the dead. If we wait until evening, we shall see him even more seized by death. Sleep overtakes him in such a state, while the first spends the night without sleep and keeps vigil.
Of which one may we say that he truly lives? Of the one lying insensible and serving as an object of laughter for all? Or of the one who labors and converses with God? If you approach the first and ask about anything necessary, you will hear not a word, as from a dead man. If you wish to converse with the second, whether by night or by day, you will see that he resembles an angel more than a man. You will hear him philosophizing about heavenly things. Do you see that one lives above all the living, while the other lies in a state worse than that of the dead?
The latter, if he undertakes any action, sees one thing instead of another and is like the insane. Rather, he is more miserable even than they are. If someone wrongs a man who is deranged, we all feel compassion for the one wronged and blame the offender. But if we see someone mocking such a drunken man, we not only feel no pity for him, but even condemn the man who is lying there. Tell me, is this life? Is it not worse than countless deaths? Do you see that one who gives himself to pleasures is not only dead, but even worse than a corpse and more miserable than a madman? One arouses pity, the other hatred. One receives pardon, the other is punished for the very thing from which he suffers.
If even in appearance such a man is ridiculous, with rotten spittle flowing from him and reeking of wine, imagine the state of his wretched soul, buried in such a body as in a tomb. To see this is like seeing someone give complete power to a barbarian maidservant, ugly and shameless, to mock and insult a modest maiden, prudent, free, noble by birth, and beautiful. Such is drunkenness. Who among those with understanding would not prefer to die a thousand times rather than live one day in this way?
The next day, after such ridiculous behavior, the man seems to rise and be sober. Yet even then he does not have perfect chastity, because his eyes are still veiled with mist after the storm of drunkenness. Let us suppose that he is completely sober. What benefit is there from this? His sobriety is useful for nothing except noticing those who reproach him. While he was in his disgraceful state, he at least had the advantage of not feeling their mockery. When day comes, he is deprived even of this consolation. He sees the servants whispering, his wife blushing with shame, his friends condemning him, and his enemies mocking. What could be more grievous than such a life? During the day he is a laughingstock to everyone, and in the evening he brings himself again into the same shameful condition.
But what? Do you wish me to present the covetous man as an example? Covetousness too is a kind of drunkenness, and even more unpleasant. If it is drunkenness, then it is surely death, and a death much worse than the other, because the intoxication itself is stronger. It is not so ruinous to be drunk with wine as to be drunk with the passion for money. In the former case, the harm is limited to illness and ends in insensibility and the ruin of the drunkard himself. In the latter case, it extends to thousands of souls and everywhere stirs up various assaults.
Let us therefore set one against the other. Let us see what they have in common and in what one surpasses the other. Let us now compare the two drunkards. They cannot be compared with that blessed man who lives according to the Spirit. They can only be considered in relation to each other. Let us again imagine a table at which there are thousands of murders. What do they have in common? In what do they resemble one another? They are alike in the very character of the disease. Although the form of drunkenness is different, since one is produced by wine and the other by money, the passion is the same. Both are equally possessed by insane desire.
Just as the one drunk on wine desires more cups the more he drinks, so the lover of money burns the flame of passion more fiercely the more he gains. He is tormented by even greater thirst. In this they resemble one another. In another respect, the lover of silver again has the advantage. In what respect? In the fact that one undergoes something corresponding to nature. Wine has a heating property, and by intensifying the innate dryness it produces thirst in drunkards. But why does the covetous man constantly desire more? Why is it that when he becomes richer, he lives in greater poverty? This passion is hard to understand and resembles a riddle.
Let us look at them, if you wish, when their drunkenness has passed. Yet the lover of silver can never be seen after drunkenness has ended. He is always in a state of drunkenness. Let us therefore look at both of them while drunk. Let us examine which is more ridiculous and portray them with the most exact features. Imagine a man who has lost his reason from wine. At evening he stares with wide-open eyes and sees no one. He wanders about aimlessly and without cause, runs into those he meets, and vomits. His hair is disordered, and he is shamefully exposed. His wife, daughter, maidservant, and everyone laugh greatly at him.
Let us also bring the lover of silver into the middle. Here the deeds deserve not only laughter, but also curse, fierce anger, and countless thunderbolts. Still, for now let us consider only what is ridiculous. Like the drunkard, the lover of silver recognizes no one, neither friends nor enemies. He too is blind, though he stares with wide-open eyes. As the former sees wine everywhere, so the latter sees money everywhere. What he vomits is far more foul. He does not cast out food, but words of blasphemy, insults, enmity, and death, thereby drawing thousands of heavenly lightning bolts upon his head.
As the drunkard's body becomes bluish and slack, so the soul of the lover of silver becomes the same. Rather, even his body is not free from this disease, but is subject to it to a greater degree. Cares, anger, and sleeplessness eat away and gradually exhaust him worse than wine. The one possessed by drunkenness may sober up at night. The lover of silver is drunk constantly, by day and by night, awake and asleep. He undergoes punishment greater than any prisoner, any laborer in the mines, or even some heavier torment.
Tell me now, is this life and not death? Is it not worse than every death? Death gives rest to the body and frees it from mockery, shame, and sins. But these two kinds of drunkenness cast one into all these things. They block the hearing, blind the eyes, and keep the reason in deep darkness. The lover of silver wants to hear or speak of nothing except profit and interest upon profit, shameless gains, hateful business, and affairs fitting for slaves, not for a free man. Like a dog, he barks at everyone, hates everyone, turns away from everyone, and is hostile to everyone without any cause. He rises up against the poor and envies the rich. He has friendship with no one. If he has a wife, children, and friends, and if he cannot draw gain for himself from all this, then they become enemies to him more wicked than actual enemies.