Sermons to the People 296.1–296.12

The reading of the holy Gospel just now, fitting for today’s solemnity, which has just sounded in our ears—if from the ears it has also gone down into our heart and found a place of rest there (for the word of God rests in us when we rest in the word of God)—has admonished all of us who minister the word and sacrament of the Lord to you to feed his sheep. Blessed Peter, first of the apostles, a greater lover of our Lord Jesus Christ than a denier, as the Gospel shows, followed the Lord when he was about to suffer; but then he could not follow him in suffering. He followed with his feet, not yet fit to follow in his ways. He promised that he would die for him, and could not even die with him. For he had dared more than his capacity could bear. He had promised more than he could, because it was also unfitting that he should do what he had promised. “I will lay down my life,” he said, “for you.” The Lord was going to do this for the servant, not the servant for the Lord. He who dared more, then, loved there out of order; therefore he feared and denied. But afterward, when the Lord had risen, he teaches Peter to love. Loving without order, he failed under the weight of the passion; but to him loving in order he promised the passion.

We remember the weakness of Peter grieving that the Lord was going to die: I recall it; see, I recall it. Let those who remember say it with me in their hearts; let those who had forgotten recall it as I remind them. The Lord Jesus Christ himself foretold his coming passion to his disciples. Then Peter, loving him but still in a carnal way, fearing death for the slayer of death, said: “Far be it from you, Lord; far be it from you; be merciful to yourself.” He would not have said “be merciful to yourself” unless he recognized the true God. So, Peter, if God is recognized by you, why do you fear that God will die? You are a man; he is God. And for man God became man, taking what he was not, not losing what he was. So the Lord was going to die in that in which he was also going to rise again. Peter, then, dreaded human death and did not want it to befall the Lord. Without knowing it, he wanted to close the purse from which our price was to flow. He heard then from the Lord, “Get behind me, Satan; for you do not savor the things of God, but the things of men.” To him he had said a little before, when he said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”: “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona, because flesh and blood has not revealed it to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” A little before blessed, afterward Satan. But from where blessed? Not from his own: “Flesh and blood has not revealed it to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” But from where Satan? From man and in man: “For you do not savor the things of God, but the things of men.” Such a Peter, loving the Lord, fearing that the Lord would die, and wishing to die for the Lord, followed; and it turned out as the physician had foretold, not as the sick man had presumed. Questioned by a maid, he denies once, twice, and a third time. He is looked at by the Lord; he weeps bitterly; with tears of a devoted heart he wipes away his denials.

The Lord rises, appears to the disciples. Peter now sees alive the one for whose death he had feared. He sees, not the Lord slain, but death slain in the Lord. So now, strengthened by the example of the Lord’s own flesh that death is not so very much to be feared, he is taught to love. Now it is necessary that he love, having seen the Lord alive after death: now let him love, now let him love securely; securely, because he is going to follow. So the Lord: “Peter, do you love me?” And he: “I love you, Lord.” And the Lord: Not because you love me do I want you to die for me; for I have already done this for you. But what? Do you love me? What will you give back to me because you love me? Do you love me? I love you. “Feed my sheep.” And again this, and a third time this: so that love might confess three times what fear had denied three times. See, perceive, learn. Nothing is asked but “Do you love?”; nothing is answered but “I love.” To the one answering it is said, “Feed my sheep.” And having entrusted his sheep to Peter, and entrusted Peter with his sheep to himself, he now foretells his passion and says: “When you were younger, you girded yourself and went where you wished; but when you have grown old, another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” “He said this,” says the evangelist, “signifying by what death he would glorify God.” You see that it belongs to feeding the Lord’s sheep not to refuse death for the Lord’s sheep.

“Feed my sheep.” Does he entrust the sheep to a fit person or to one less fit? First, what sheep does he entrust? Precious ones, bought, not with gold, not with silver, but with blood. If a human master entrusted his sheep to his servant, he would without doubt consider whether that servant’s private savings were adequate to the price of his sheep, and he would say: If he loses them, if he squanders them, if he uses them up, he has something to repay with. So he would entrust his sheep to a fit servant, and he would look for the servant’s means in money, for sheep that money had bought. But now the Lord Jesus Christ, because he entrusts to a servant sheep that he bought with blood, looks for the servant’s fitness in the suffering of blood. As if he were saying: Feed my sheep; I entrust my sheep to you. What sheep? Those I bought with my blood. I died for them. Do you love me? Die for them. And indeed that human servant of a man would repay money for the sheep used up; Peter repaid blood for the sheep preserved.

Come, brothers, I want to say something for the occasion. What was entrusted to Peter, what was commanded to Peter, not Peter alone, but the other apostles too heard, held, and kept, and above all the apostle Paul himself, sharer of his blood and his day. They heard these things and passed them on for us to hear. We feed you; we are fed with you. May God give us strength so to love you that we may even die for you, either in deed or in will. For it is not because the passion was lacking to the apostle John that a mind prepared for the passion could be lacking. He did not suffer, but he could have suffered. God knew his readiness. Just as the three young men were sent into the furnace to burn, not to live. Shall we deny that they are martyrs because the flame could not burn them? Ask the fires: they did not suffer; ask the will: they were crowned. “For the Lord is able,” they said, “to rescue us from your hands”: “but even if not”: there are sure hearts and steadfast faith, there is unshaken strength, there sure victory: “but even if not, be it known to you, O king, that we do not worship the statue you have set up.” Something else pleased God: they did not burn, but they put out the fire of idolatry in the king’s mind.

You see, then, dearly beloved, what is set before the servants of God in this time, for the sake of the future glory that will be revealed in us: against which glory no temporal tribulation of any kind or size can be weighed. “For the sufferings of this time,” says the apostle, “are not worthy of the future glory that will be revealed in us.” If these things are so, let no one now think carnally; it is not the time. The world is shaken; the old man is shaken out: the flesh is pressed; let the spirit flow forth. “Peter’s body lies at Rome,” people say; “Paul’s body lies at Rome, Lawrence’s body at Rome, the bodies of other holy martyrs lie at Rome; and Rome is wretched, and Rome is laid waste, afflicted, crushed, burned. So many slaughters of death take place, by hunger, by plague, by the sword: where are the memorials of the apostles?” What do you say? “See, this is what I said: Rome suffers such great evils; where are the memorials of the apostles?” They are there, but they are not in you. Would that they were in you, whoever you are who say these things, whoever are so foolish, whoever, called in the spirit, savor things carnally. Indeed I am still teaching patience, not yet wisdom. Be patient: the Lord wills it. Do you ask why he wills it? Put off the secret of knowledge; prepare the vigor of obedience. He wills you to bear it: bear what he wills, and he will give what you will. And yet, my brothers, see, I dare to say it: you will hear it gladly if you already hold the first parts of obedience, if there is in you a gentle and mild patience in bearing the Lord’s will. For we do not bear gentle things, we love them: harsh things we endure; at gentle things we rejoice. See the Lord your God, see your head, see the example of your life: attend to your redeemer, your shepherd: “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.” How he showed the human will, and at once turned the resistance to obedience! “Yet not what I will, but what you will, Father.” See, he said this to Peter: “When you have grown old, another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish.” He showed in him the human will, about the dread of death. Because he died unwilling, was he crowned unwilling? So you perhaps did not want to lose your savings, which you were going to leave here: take care that you do not remain by leaving it. You did not want your son to die before you; you did not want your wife to die before you. What then? Even if Rome were not taken, was not one of you going to die first? You did not want your wife to die before you; your wife did not want her husband to die before her: was the Lord going to obey both? Let the order be in his hands, who knows how to order what he created. So obey so great a will of God.

I already see what you are saying in your heart: “See, in Christian times Rome has been afflicted and burned. Why in Christian times?” Who says this? A Christian? Then answer yourself, if you are a Christian: when God willed. But what shall I say to the pagan? He insults me. What does he say to you? How does he insult you? “See, when we used to offer sacrifices to our gods, Rome stood, Rome flourished; now, because the sacrifice of your God has prevailed and abounded, and the sacrifices of our gods have been checked and forbidden, see what Rome suffers.” Answer briefly for the time being, so that we may be rid of him; otherwise you have another thing to meditate on. For you were not called to embrace the earth, but to purchase heaven; you were not called to earthly happiness, but to heavenly; not to temporal successes and flying and passing prosperity, but to eternal life with the angels. Yet to this lover of carnal happiness, and murmurer against the living and true God, who wants to serve demons and wood and stones, answer quickly. As their own history has it, this burning of the city of Rome is the third. As their own history has it, as their own writings have it, the burning of the city of Rome which has just happened is the third. The city which has now burned once amid the sacrifices of Christians had already burned twice amid the sacrifices of pagans. Once it was burned by the Gauls in such a way that only the Capitoline hill remained. Afterward, by Nero—I do not know whether to say raging or dissolute—Rome blazed with a second fire. Nero, emperor of Rome itself, a slave of idols, killer of the apostles, gave the order, and Rome was burned. Why do you think? For what reason? A haughty, proud, and dissolute man took delight in the burning of Rome. “I want to see,” he said, “how Troy burned.” So it burned once, twice, a third time. Now why does it please you to gnash against God over a city that has been in the habit of burning?

“But in it,” they say, “so many Christians suffered such great evils.” Have you forgotten that it belongs to Christians to suffer temporal evils and to hope for everlasting goods? You, whoever you are, pagan, have reason to lament, because you have lost temporal things and have not yet found eternal ones. The Christian has something to think about: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you fall into various trials.” So you say, O pagan: “The guardian gods did not keep Rome now because they are not there; they kept it then, when they were there.” We show our God to be truthful. He foretold all these things; you have read, you have heard; but I do not know whether you remember, you who are troubled by such words. Have you not heard the prophets, have you not heard the Lord Jesus Christ himself foretelling evils to come? The more age comes upon the world, the nearer it draws to the end. You have heard, brothers; we have heard together: “There will be wars, there will be uproars, there will be distresses, there will be famines.” Why are we contrary to ourselves, so that when these things are read we believe, and when they are fulfilled we murmur?

“But more,” they say, “the human race is more laid waste now.” For the moment, having considered past history, without prejudice to the question, I do not know whether more. But see, let it be more: I believe it is more. The Lord himself solves the question: the world is more laid waste now; it is more laid waste. Hear why it is more laid waste now, when the Gospel is preached everywhere. You notice with how great renown the Gospel is preached, and do you not notice with how great impiety it is despised? Now, brothers, let us leave the pagans outside for a little; let us turn our eyes on ourselves. The Gospel is preached in the whole world: it is true. Before the Gospel was preached, God’s will was hidden; in the preaching of the Gospel God’s will was revealed. We have been told in the preaching of the Gospel what we ought to love, what to despise, what to do, what to avoid, what to hope for. We have heard everything: the will of God is not hidden throughout the whole world. Set the world as a servant, and attend to the Gospel. Hear the Lord’s voice. This servant is the world. “The servant who does not know his master’s will and does things worthy of stripes will be beaten with few.” The servant is the world. How is the world a servant? Because “the world was made through him, and the world did not know him.” “The servant who does not know his master’s will”: see what the world was before. But what now? “But the servant who knows his master’s will and does things worthy of stripes will be beaten with many.” And would that he may be beaten with many, and not once be condemned. Why do you refuse to be beaten with many, O servant who know your master’s will and do things worthy of stripes? It is said to you (see one will of your Lord): “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither rust nor moth destroys, where thieves do not break in or steal.” You store up on earth; he commands in heaven, saying to you, Give to me; have treasure there, where I am the guard. Send it ahead of you: why do you keep it on earth? What Christ guards, the Goth does not take away. You on the other hand, wiser, it seems, and more prudent than your Lord, store it on earth. But you have known your Lord’s will: he wanted you to store it above. And you: “I store it on earth.” Be ready, then, to be beaten with many. See, you know the will of your Lord who wants to keep you in heaven, and you keep on earth: you do things worthy of stripes. And when you are beaten, you blaspheme. You blaspheme, you murmur; you say that what your Lord does to you ought not to have been done. Ought what you, a bad servant, do to have been done?

At least hold that place: do not murmur, do not blaspheme. Rather praise your Lord because he corrects you; praise him because he amends you, so that he may console you. “For whom God loves, he corrects; and he scourges every son whom he receives.” You, a spoiled son of the Lord, want both to be received and not to be scourged: as if you would be [received] and he would lie. Ought the memorial of the apostles, through which heaven is being prepared for you, to have kept for you on earth the theaters of the insane? Plainly true: so Peter died and was laid at Rome so that the stones of the theater might not fall? God shakes the toys of children out of the hands of the undisciplined. Brothers, let us lessen our sins and our murmurs. Let us be enemies of our iniquities, of our murmuring: let us be angry with ourselves, not with God. “Be angry”—by all means be angry, but for what use?—“and do not sin.” Be angry so that you do not sin. For every person who repents is angry with himself: he exercises the anger of repentance on himself. Do you want God to spare you, then? Do not spare yourself. For if you spare yourself, he will not spare you; because if he too spares you, you perish. You do not know what you wish for, wretch: you perish. For as it is written, “He scourges every son whom he receives,” so fear this too: “The sinner has provoked the Lord.” How do you know? As if it were said to him: How do you know that the sinner has provoked the Lord? He saw a sinner prosperous, doing evil every day and suffering no evil, and in the Holy Spirit he shuddered and grieved and said, “The sinner has provoked the Lord.” This sinner who does such evils and suffers no evil has provoked the Lord. He provokes the Lord: “in the greatness of his anger he will not seek him out.” He will not seek him out because he is very angry. Whoever takes away correction prepares condemnation. “He will not seek him out”: for if he sought him out, he would scourge him; and perhaps he would amend him. But now he is very angry: he is very angry with the prosperous wicked, since they are not scourged. Do not envy them; do not wish to be like them, unhappily happy. It is better to be scourged for a time than to be condemned forever.

So the Lord entrusted his sheep to us, because he entrusted them to Peter—if indeed in some part, even the last, we are worthy to tread the dust of Peter’s footsteps; the Lord has entrusted his sheep to us. You are his sheep; we are sheep with you, because we are Christians. We have already said: we feed and we are fed. Love God, so that God may love you. And you cannot show how much you love God except as far as you show that you love God’s gains. What have you to give God, sensible man? What do you give God? What did Peter give? All of it is this: “Feed my sheep.” What do you give God, so that he may be greater, better, richer, more honored? Whatever you are, he will be what he was. So look beside you: perhaps you ought to give to your neighbor what may reach God. “When you did it to one of the least of mine, you did it to me.” If, then, you are commanded to break bread for the hungry, ought you to close the church to one who knocks?

Why did I say this? We were saddened by what we heard, although we were not present: that a certain man from the Donatists coming to the Church, confessing the sin of rebaptism, when he was being exhorted to penance by the bishop, some brothers protested, and he was turned away. I tell Your Love: our insides were wrung, wrung by this. We confess to you, such zeal does not please us. I know that they did it out of zeal for God and for the Church. Do you think nothing has happened, because this has sounded abroad to all? I ask you: let this voice sound today for this reason, that what sounded badly may be buried by what sounds well. Give your effort to this; let this sound, let us proclaim this; this is what we proclaim. Let them come; let those be admitted in the usual way who have never yet been Catholics. But if they were once Catholics, if they have been found slippery, found inconstant and weak, found faithless—do I altogether spare the faithless? Perhaps those who were faithless will be faithful: let them too come, to be admitted to penance. Nor let them flatter themselves that, returning to the party of Donatus, they did penance. That penance was about a good thing: let there be a true one about a bad thing. When they did penance in the party of Donatus, they repented of what they had done well; now let them do penance so that they repent of what they did badly. Are you afraid, because they have been found faithless, that they may trample on what is holy? See, this fear of yours too is provided for: they are admitted to penance. They will be in penance; when they wish to be reconciled, no one any longer compelling, no one frightening them: for a Catholic penitent no longer suffers the threats of the laws; he has begun to want to be reconciled while no one was frightening him; let his will at least then be believed. Suppose he was compelled to be a Catholic: he will be a penitent. Who compels him to seek the place of reconciliation, except his own will? Now, then, let us admit weakness, so that afterward we may test the will.