On Fleeing the World 52–58

Let us flee like deer to the springs of water: let our soul thirst for what David thirsted for. What is that spring? Hear him saying: “For with you is the spring of life.” Let my soul say to this spring: “When shall I come and appear before your face?” For the spring is God; but let one who desires this spring pour out his soul upon himself, so as to leave nothing to the possession of the flesh, but that the soul may overflow everywhere.

Susanna poured it out beautifully, so that the fires of the body, the fears of death, the desires of life could not burn in her. Her soul poured out upon her quenched every carnal desire and worldly pursuit. It could even have quenched the flames of those monstrous old men and shameless elders, had not a flood of lust overflowed in them. When they pressed their false charge against her if she refused consent to adultery, Susanna groaned and said: “Straits are upon me on every side. For if I do this, I shall perish by eternal death; but if not, I shall not escape your hands.” Yet she judged it better to flee the crime than the danger. So she wept when the crime was charged against her; she wept when adulterers claimed the right to judge a modest and chaste woman, not lamenting death, but she wept at the slander of her chastity, the injury to religion, and poured out upon herself not her body but her soul; for she would have poured out her body had she yielded to carnal men. Indeed, when she was condemned to death, she cried out as though she were the judge of the accused, the arbiter of her slanderers, and with the authority of an innocent conscience she summoned the divine knowledge to judgment for herself, not stirred by fear of death but by the lofty power of a censure that convicts. Susanna, then, fled the world and entrusted herself to God, fleeing to that citadel of the eternal city which embraces the whole world, since all things are within God.

Paul too fled, so as to escape, let down through a window in a basket (for he knew that a threefold cord cannot be broken); but he fled so that he might preach the gospel of the Lord in all the world, and therefore he was caught up into paradise. Let us too flee through the window, listening to the Lord’s commands and keeping them with sober sight and chastity of the eyes.

Let us flee like Lot, fearing the crimes of Sodom more than its punishments. Surely he fled the contagion of crimes more devoutly who shut his house to the Sodomites and, though living among them, did not know those whose disgraceful deeds he was ignorant of and whose shameful acts he turned from; and in fleeing did not look back at those whose way of life he did not desire. He flees like Lot, then, who renounces vices, disowns the customs of the inhabitants, does not look back, enters that higher city by the entrance of his thoughts and does not withdraw from it until the chief of priests dies, who took away the sin of the world. He died indeed once, but he dies for each one who is baptized into the death of Christ, so that we may be buried with him and rise with him and walk in the newness of his life.

You flee well if your heart does not imitate the counsels and thoughts of sinners. You flee well if your eye flees cups and bowls, lest it become livid while it lingers over wine. You flee well if your eye turns aside from a strange woman, so that your tongue may keep the truth. You flee well if you do not answer a fool according to his folly. You flee well if you take the step of your feet away from the mouth of fools. For one goes astray quickly with evil guides; but if you wish to flee well, make your ways far from their words.

The chief of priests has died for you, he was crucified for you, so that you may cling to his nails. For in that flesh he took up you and your sins; the bonds of your offences were fixed to that gibbet, so that you may now owe nothing to the world, which you once renounced. And rightly you owe nothing, you who can say: “For the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world,” so that you may no longer fear death, if you bear Christ, in whom you can say: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” For when that old man of ours was fixed to the cross, sin was destroyed, the sting blunted, guilt emptied, so that we may cease to serve shameful deeds any longer. For the old man has also gone. Now there is no longer the old man in us, but a new creature having in itself the likeness of Christ; buried with him in the likeness of his death, we have taken on the image of his life, we have received the wings of spiritual grace.

So fly, then, that it may be said of you: “Who are these that fly like a cloud and like doves with their young?” so that your clouds may rain down righteousness and your doves may bring forth simplicity. So sail as those crossing over the world, not wandering about like the ships of Tarshish, so that you may direct your course to spiritual harbors and bring in the riches of the sea. So hasten that it may be said of you: “They have become swifter than eagles.” For you see that one must flee from the wrath to come, which those will be able to escape who through repentance have placed their hope of escape in themselves and have drunk in faith in the reconciliation to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the kingdom from the ages, and now and always, and for all ages of ages. Amen.