Sermons to the People 131.1–132.4

We have heard the truthful Teacher, the divine Redeemer, the human Savior, commending to us our price, his blood. For he spoke to us of his body and blood: he called his body food, his blood drink. The faithful recognize the sacrament of the faithful. But the hearers, what do they get but words? When, then, commending such food and such drink, he said, “Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you will not have life in you” (and who but Life itself would say this of life? But to that man it will be death, not life, who thinks Life a liar), his disciples were scandalized, not all indeed, but very many, saying among themselves, “This is a hard saying; who can hear it?” But when the Lord knew this in himself and heard the murmurs of their thoughts, he answered them as they thought, though they made no sound, so that they might know they had been heard and stop thinking such things. What then did he answer? “Does this scandalize you? What then if you see the Son of Man ascending where he was before?” What does “Does this scandalize you?” mean? “Do you think that I am going to cut this body of mine that you see into parts, and chop up my limbs, and give them to you? What then if you see the Son of Man ascending where he was before?” Certainly he who could ascend whole could not be consumed. So while he gave us from his body and blood a healthful refreshment, he also briefly resolved the great question about his wholeness. Let those who eat, then, eat, and those who drink, drink; let them hunger and thirst: let them eat life, drink life. That eating is being refreshed: but you are refreshed in such a way that what refreshes you does not run out. What is that drinking but living? Eat life, drink life: you will have life, and the life is whole. But this will be so, that is, the body and blood of Christ will be life to each, if what is taken visibly in the sacrament is in truth itself eaten spiritually, drunk spiritually. For we have heard the Lord himself saying, “It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh profits nothing. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” “But there are some,” he says, “who do not believe.” These were the ones saying, “This is a hard saying; who can hear it?” It is hard, but to the hard: that is, incredible, but to the incredulous.

But to teach us that believing itself is of gift, not of merit, he says, “As I said to you, no one comes to me unless it has been given him by my Father.” Now where the Lord said this, if we recall the earlier part of the Gospel, we shall find that he said, “No one comes to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” He did not say “leads,” but “draws.” This force is done to the heart, not to the flesh. Why then do you wonder? Believe, and you come; love, and you are drawn. Do not think this a harsh and troublesome force: it is sweet, it is pleasant; the sweetness itself draws you. Is not a sheep drawn when grass is shown to it in its hunger? And I think it is not driven bodily but bound by desire. So you too come to Christ: do not think of long journeys; where you believe, there you come. For one comes to him who is everywhere by loving, not by sailing. But since even on such a journey the waves and storms of various temptations abound, believe in the Crucified, so that your faith may climb onto the wood. You will not be drowned, but carried by the wood. So, so did he sail on the waves of this world who said, “But far be it from me to boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

It is remarkable, however, that when Christ crucified is preached, two hear: one despises, the other climbs up. Let him who despises blame himself; let him who climbs not claim it for himself. For he has heard from the truthful Teacher, “No one comes to me unless it has been given him by my Father.” Let him rejoice that it has been given; let him give thanks to the giver with a humble heart, not an arrogant one, lest what he gained in humility he lose in pride. For even those who already walk in the very way of righteousness, if they credit it to themselves and their own strength, perish from it. Therefore holy Scripture, leading us to humility, says through the apostle, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” And lest they credit anything of it to themselves because he said “work,” he at once added, “For it is God who works in you both to will and to work, according to his good will.” It is God who works in you: therefore “with fear and trembling.” Make yourself a valley, receive the rain. The low places are filled, the high places dry up. Grace is rain. Why then do you wonder if “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble”? Therefore “with fear and trembling,” that is, with humility. “Do not be high-minded, but fear.” Fear, so that you may be filled; do not be high-minded, lest you dry up.

“But I already walk this way,” you say: “I needed to learn; I needed to know, through the teaching of the Law, what to do; I have free choice of will: who will separate me from this way?” If you read carefully, you will find that someone began to exalt himself over a certain abundance of his, which he had nevertheless received; that the merciful Lord, to teach him humility, took away what he had given; that he was suddenly left in want; and that, confessing God’s mercy as he remembered it, he said, “I said in my abundance, I shall not be moved forever.” “I said in my abundance.” But it was I who said it, a man said it: “Every man is a liar”: I said it. So, “I said in my abundance”: the abundance was so great that I dared to say this: “I shall not be moved forever.” What next? “Lord, in your will you gave strength to my beauty. But you turned your face away from me, and I was troubled.” “You showed me,” he says, “that what I abounded in was yours. You showed me where to ask, to whom to ascribe what I had received, whom I ought to thank, to whom I should run thirsting, from where I should be filled, and with whom I should keep what I had been filled with. For I will keep my strength for you, so that I may be filled with you as giver and not lose it with you as keeper.” “I will keep my strength for you.” “To show me this, you turned your face away from me, and I was troubled.” Troubled, because dried up; dried up, because exalted. Say, then, dry and parched, so that you may be filled again: “My soul is to you like earth without water.” Say, “My soul is to you like earth without water.” For you had said, not the Lord, “I shall not be moved forever.” You had said it presuming on yourself; but it was not of your own, though you thought it was.

What then does the Lord say? “Serve the Lord in fear, and rejoice in him with trembling.” So too the apostle: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God who works in you.” So: “rejoice with trembling.” “Lest the Lord be angry.” I see that you anticipate me by calling out. You know what I am going to say; you anticipate me by calling out. And where do you have this from, but because he taught you, to whom you came by believing? This, then, he says: hear what you know; I am not teaching but reminding you by preaching; or rather, I am not teaching, since you know, nor reminding, since you remember; but let us say together what you hold with us. This the Lord says: “Lay hold of discipline,” and rejoice, but “with trembling,” so that you may always keep humbly what you have received, “lest the Lord be angry”: with the proud, of course, who credit to themselves what they have, not giving thanks to him from whom they have it. “Lest the Lord be angry, and you perish from the righteous way.” Did he say, “Lest the Lord be angry, and you not come to the righteous way”? Or, “Lest the Lord be angry, and not bring you to the righteous way, or not admit you to the righteous way”? You are already walking in it; do not be proud, lest you perish even from it. “And you perish,” he says, “from the righteous way, when his anger shall blaze out shortly against you.” Not after long. Where you are proud, there you lose what you had received. As if a man, frightened by this, said, “What then shall I do?”, it follows: “Blessed are all who trust in him”: not in themselves, but in him. “By grace we have been saved; not of ourselves, but it is the gift of God.”

Perhaps you say: “What does he mean by saying this so often? This again, and this a third time; and he hardly ever speaks without saying this.” May I not be saying it for nothing! For there are people ungrateful to grace, who attribute much to a needy and wounded nature. It is true: man, when he was created, received great powers of free choice; but by sinning he lost them. He fell into death, he became weak, he was left half dead on the road by robbers; the Samaritan, passing by (the name means Guardian), lifted him onto his beast; he is still being brought to the inn. Why is he lifted up with pride? He is still under treatment. “But it is enough for me,” he says, “that in baptism I received the forgiveness of all sins.” Because iniquity has been blotted out, is weakness therefore ended? “I received,” he says, “the forgiveness of all sins.” Quite true. All sins were blotted out in the sacrament of baptism, absolutely all, words, deeds, thoughts: all blotted out. But this is the oil and wine poured on him on the road. You remember, beloved, how that half-dead man, wounded by robbers on the road, was relieved, receiving oil and wine for his wounds. His straying had already been pardoned, and yet his weakness is healed in the inn. The inn, if you recognize it, is the Church. It is an inn now, because we are passing through by living: it will be a house, from which we shall never move, when we arrive healed at the kingdom of heaven. Meanwhile let us gladly be treated in the inn; let us not, still sick, boast of health, lest by pride we achieve nothing but never being healed by the treatment.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul.” Say to your soul, say: you are still in this life, you still bear frail flesh, “the corruptible body” still “weighs down the soul”; after the completeness of forgiveness you have still received the remedy of prayer; you still say, until your diseases are healed, “Forgive us our debts.” Say, then, to your soul, a humble valley, not a raised hill; say to your soul, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.” What benefits? Say them, count them, give thanks. What benefits? “Who is gracious to all your iniquities.” This was done in baptism. What is being done now? “Who heals all your diseases.” This is being done now: I recognize it. But as long as I am here, the corruptible body weighs down the soul. Say, then, what follows too: “Who redeems your life from corruption.” After the redemption from corruption, what remains? “When this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your contention?” There rightly: “Where, O death, is your sting?” You look for its place, and you do not find it. What is the sting of death? What is “Where, O death, is your sting?” Where is sin? You look for it, and it is nowhere. “For the sting of death is sin.” They are the apostle’s words, not mine. Then it will be said, “Where, O death, is your sting?” Sin will be nowhere: nothing to capture you, nothing to attack you, nothing to tickle the conscience. Then it will not be said, “Forgive us our debts.” But what will be said? “O Lord our God, give us peace: for you have rendered all things to us.”

Finally, after the redemption from all corruption, what remains but the crown of righteousness? That certainly remains; but even in it, or under it, let there not be a swollen head to receive the crown. Hear, attend to the psalm, how little that crown wants a swollen head. When he had said, “Who redeems your life from corruption,” he says, “Who crowns you.” Here you were about to say, “He crowns me: my merits declare it, my strength did this: a debt is paid, not a gift given.” Hear the psalm instead. For this too is you speaking: “Every man is a liar.” Hear what God says: “Who crowns you with compassion and mercy.” He crowns you out of mercy, he crowns you out of compassion. For you were not worthy that he should call you, and justify you when called, and glorify you when justified. “A remnant has been saved according to the election of grace. And if by grace, then not of works; otherwise grace is no longer grace. For to him who works, the reward is not reckoned according to grace, but according to debt.” The apostle says it: “Not according to grace, but according to debt.” But he crowns you with compassion and mercy: and if your merits have gone before, God says to you, “Examine your merits well, and you will see that they are my gifts.”

This, then, is the righteousness of God. As it is said, “Salvation is the Lord’s” (not the salvation by which the Lord is saved, but that which he gives to those whom he saves), so too the grace of God through Jesus Christ our Lord is called the righteousness of God: not that by which the Lord is righteous, but that by which he justifies those whom he makes righteous out of ungodly. But some, as the Jews once did, want to be called Christians and still, not knowing the righteousness of God, want to establish their own; even in our times, times of open grace, times of grace now revealed that was once hidden, times of grace now manifest on the threshing floor, which once lay hidden in the fleece. I see that few have understood, more have not understood; I will by no means cheat them by keeping silent. One of the righteous of old, Gideon, asked the Lord for a sign, and said: “I ask, Lord, that this fleece, which I put on the threshing floor, be rained on, and the floor be dry.” It was done: the fleece was rained on, the whole floor was dry. In the morning he wrung out the fleece into a basin, for grace is given to the humble: and you know what the Lord did with a basin for his disciples. Again he asked another sign: “I want, Lord,” he says, “the fleece to be dry and the floor rained on.” And this too was done. Recall the time of the Old Testament: grace is hidden in a cloud, like the rain in the fleece. Consider now the time of the New Testament: examine the nation of the Jews, and you will find it like a dry fleece; but the whole world, like that threshing floor, is full of grace, not hidden but manifest. Hence we are compelled to lament greatly over our brothers, who contend not against hidden grace but against open and manifest grace. The Jews are pardoned. What about Christians? Why are you enemies of the grace of Christ? Why do you presume on yourselves? Why are you ungrateful? For why did Christ come? Was nature not here? Was not that nature here which you deceive by praising it so much? Was the Law not here? But the apostle says: “If righteousness is through the Law, then Christ died in vain.” What the apostle says of the Law, we say to these people of nature: “If righteousness is through nature, then Christ died in vain.”

What was said of the Jews, then, we see entirely in these people. “They have a zeal for God. I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge.” What is “not according to knowledge”? “For not knowing the righteousness of God, and wanting to establish their own, they have not submitted to the righteousness of God.” My brothers, share my compassion. Wherever you find such people, do not hide them; let there be no perverse mercy in you: wherever you find such people, do not hide them at all. Refute those who contradict, and bring those who resist to us. For two councils have already sent their decisions on this case to the Apostolic See, and rescripts have come back from there too. The case is finished: if only the error were finished some day! So we warn them to take notice, we teach them so that they may be instructed, we pray that they may be changed. Turning to the Lord, and so on.

As we heard when the holy Gospel was read, the Lord Jesus Christ exhorted us, by the promise of eternal life, to eat his flesh and drink his blood. You who have heard these things have not yet all understood. For those of you who are baptized and faithful know what he meant. But those among you who are still called catechumens, or hearers, could be hearers when it was read; could they also be understanders? So our sermon is directed to both. Let those who already eat the Lord’s flesh and drink his blood think what they eat and what they drink, lest, as the apostle says, they eat and drink judgment on themselves. But let those who do not yet eat and do not yet drink hasten, since they are invited to such a banquet. In these days the teachers feed you; Christ feeds you daily; that table of his is set in the middle. What is the reason, O hearers, that you see the table and do not come to the banquet? And perhaps just now, when the Gospel was read, you said in your hearts: “What do we think he means when he says, My flesh is truly food, and my blood is truly drink? How is the Lord’s flesh eaten, and the Lord’s blood drunk? What do we think he means?” Who has shut it against you, so that you do not know this? It is veiled: but if you will, it will be unveiled. Come forward to the profession, and you have solved the question. For what the Lord Jesus said, the faithful already know. But you are called a catechumen, you are called a hearer, and you are deaf. For you have the ears of the body open, since you hear the words that were spoken: but you still have the ears of the heart shut, since you do not understand what was said. I am urging you, not expounding. See, it is Easter: give in your name for baptism. If the feast does not rouse you, let curiosity itself lead you, so that you may know what was meant by, “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.” So that you may know with me what was meant, knock, and it will be opened to you. And as I say to you, “Knock, and it will be opened to you,” so I too knock: open to me. Sounding in your ears, I knock at your breast.

But if catechumens must be exhorted, my brothers, not to delay in coming to so great a grace of regeneration, how much care must we have in building up the faithful, so that their coming may profit them, and they may not eat and drink such a banquet to their own judgment? So that they may not eat and drink to judgment, let them live well. Be exhorters not by your words but by your conduct, so that those who are not baptized may hasten to follow you in such a way that they do not perish by imitating you. You who are married, keep the faith of the marriage bed with your wives. Render what you demand. Man, you demand chastity of your wife: give her an example, not a word. You are the head: see where you go. For you ought to go where it is not dangerous for her to follow; or rather, you yourself ought to walk where you want her to follow. You demand strength from the weaker sex: you both have the desire of the flesh; let the stronger conquer first. And yet, sad to say, many men are outdone by women. Women keep the chastity that men will not keep: and in not keeping it, men want to be seen as men; as if their sex were stronger so that the enemy might subdue it more easily. It is a wrestling, a battle, a fight. The man is stronger than the woman; the man is the head of the woman. The woman fights and conquers: do you succumb to the enemy? Does the body stand and the head lie fallen? But you who do not yet have wives, and yet already come to the Lord’s table and eat the flesh of Christ and drink his blood: if you are going to marry, keep yourselves for your wives. As you want them to come to you, so they too ought to find you. What young man is there who does not want to marry a chaste wife? And if he is going to receive a virgin, who does not desire her untouched? You seek her untouched: be untouched. You seek her pure: do not be impure. For it is not that she can and you cannot. If it could not be done, she could not do it either. But since she can, let her teach you that it can be done. And God guides her so that she can. But you will be more glorious if you do it. Why more glorious? Her parents’ watchfulness keeps her in check, the very modesty of the weaker sex restrains her: finally, she fears the laws, which you do not fear. So you will be more glorious if you do it, because if you do it, you do it out of fear of God. She has many things to fear besides God: you fear God alone. But he whom you fear is greater than all. He is to be feared in public, he in secret. You go out, you are seen; you come in, you are seen: the lamp burns, he sees you; the lamp is put out, he sees you: you go into your bedroom, he sees you; you turn things over in your heart, he sees you. Fear him, him who takes care to see you; and at least by fearing be chaste. Or if you want to sin, look for a place where he does not see you, and do what you want.

But you who have already made a vow, chastise the body more strictly, and do not let the reins of desire loose even toward the things that are permitted, so that you turn aside not only from unlawful intercourse but also scorn a lawful glance. Remember, whatever sex you are, male or female, that you lead the life of angels on earth. For the angels do not marry, nor take wives. This we shall be when we have risen. How much better are you, who begin to be before death what men will be after the resurrection! Keep your ranks: for God keeps your honors for you. The resurrection of the dead has been compared to the stars set in the sky. “For star differs from star in glory,” as the apostle says; “so also the resurrection of the dead.” Virginity will shine there in one way, married chastity in another, holy widowhood in another. They will shine differently, but all will be there. The splendor unequal, the heaven shared.

Considering your ranks, then, and keeping your professions, come to the flesh of the Lord, come to the blood of the Lord. Whoever knows that he is otherwise, let him not come. Rather be pricked by my sermon. For those rejoice who know how to keep for their spouses what they demand of their spouses, and those who know how to keep continence completely, if they have vowed it to God: but those who hear me saying, “Whoever of you do not keep chastity, do not come to that bread,” are saddened. And I would rather not say it: but what am I to do? Shall I fear man, so as to keep silent about the truth? If those servants do not fear the Lord, then, shall I not fear him either? As if I did not know that it was said, “Wicked and lazy servant, you should have given, and I would have exacted.” See, I have given, O Lord my God; see, in your sight and that of your angels, and in the sight of your people itself, I have paid out your money: for I fear your judgment. I have given; you exact. Even if I do not say it, you will do it. So I say this instead: I have given; you convert, you spare. Make chaste those who were unchaste, so that together in your sight, when judgment comes, we may rejoice, both he who paid out and those to whom it was paid out. Does this please you? Let it please you. All of you who are unchaste, correct yourselves while you live. For I can speak the word of God, but I cannot free the unchaste who persist in wickedness from God’s judgment and condemnation.