Sermons to the People 97.1–98.7

Brothers, as for what you heard just now, Scripture warning us and saying that we should keep watch for the last day: let each one think of his own last day, lest perhaps, when you feel or think that the last day of the world is far off, you fall asleep toward your own last day. You heard what he said about the last day of this world: that no one knows it, “neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father.” Here indeed there is a great question, lest, thinking in a fleshly way, we suppose that the Father knows something the Son does not know. For certainly when he said, “The Father knows,” he said it because in the Father the Son also knows. For what is there in a day that was not made in the Word, through whom the day was made? So let no one inquire when the last day will be; but let us all keep watch by living well, lest the last day of any one of us find us unprepared, and as each one departs from here on his last day, so he will be found on the last day of the world. Nothing you have not done here will help you. Each one’s works will help him, or each one’s works will weigh him down.

And how is it that we sang to the Lord in the Psalm, “Have mercy on me, Lord, for man has trampled on me”? He is called “man” who lives according to man. Indeed to those who live according to God it is said, “You are gods, and all of you sons of the Most High.” But to the reprobate, who were called to be sons of God and preferred to be men, that is, to live according to man, he says: “But you will die like men, and fall like one of the princes.” For the fact that man is mortal ought to serve him for discipline, not for boasting. Why does a worm that will die tomorrow boast? I tell your Charity, brothers: proud mortals ought to blush before the devil. For he, though proud, is nevertheless immortal: he is a spirit, though a malignant one. A last day of punishment is kept for him at the end; yet the death we suffer he does not suffer. But man heard, “You shall surely die.” Let him make good use of his punishment. What is it that I said, “Let him make good use of his punishment”? Let him not go on to pride from that by which he received punishment; let him recognize that he is mortal, and break his self-exaltation. Let him hear it said to him, “Why is earth and ashes proud?” Even if the devil is proud, he is not earth and ashes. So it was said, “But you will die like men, and fall like one of the princes.” You do not consider that you are mortal, and you are proud like the devil. So let man make use of his punishment, brothers: let him make good use of his evil, to profit his good. Who does not know that it is a punishment that we must die, and, what is heavier, that we do not know when? The punishment is certain, the hour uncertain; and of this punishment alone are we certain in human affairs.

All our other things, good and bad, are uncertain: death alone is certain. What do I mean? A child is conceived: perhaps it is born, perhaps it miscarries. So it is uncertain: perhaps he grows up, perhaps he does not; perhaps he grows old, perhaps he does not; perhaps he will be rich, perhaps poor; perhaps honored, perhaps humbled; perhaps he will have children, perhaps not; perhaps he will marry, perhaps not; and whatever else you name among good things. Look at the bad things too: perhaps he falls ill, perhaps not; perhaps he is bitten by a snake, perhaps not; perhaps he is devoured by a beast, perhaps not. Look at all the evils: everywhere it is “perhaps it will be, perhaps it will not.” Can you say, “Perhaps he dies, perhaps he does not”? As when doctors have examined a sickness and know it to be fatal, they declare: “He is dying; he will not escape it.” From the moment a man is born it must be said, “He will not escape.” When he was born, he began to be sick. When he has died, he ends his sickness indeed; but he does not know whether he goes on to a worse one. That rich man had ended a luxurious sickness and came to a tormenting one. But that poor man ended his sickness and came to health. But here he chose what he would have afterward; and what he reaped there, he sowed here. So while we live we must keep watch, and must choose what we are to hold in the future.

Let us not love the world. It weighs down those who love it; it does not lead them to the good. We must labor rather that it may not take hold of us than fear that it may fall. See, the world falls; the Christian stands, because Christ does not fall. For why does the Lord say, “Rejoice, for I have overcome the world”? Let us answer him, if you please: “Rejoice, but you. If you have overcome, you rejoice. Why we?” Why does he say to us, “Rejoice,” unless because he overcame for us, fought for us? For where did he fight? Because he took on a man. Take away that he was born of a virgin, take away that he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, made in the likeness of men and found in appearance as a man: take this away, and where is the wrestling? Where the contest? Where the temptation? Where the victory, which no fight preceded? “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him nothing was made.” Would a Jew crucify this Word? Would an ungodly man insult this Word? Would this Word be struck with fists? Would this Word be crowned with thorns? But so that he might suffer these things, “the Word became flesh”; and having suffered them, he conquered by rising again. So he conquered for us, to whom he showed the security of the resurrection. You say to God, then, “Have mercy on me, Lord, for man has trampled on me.” Do not trample on yourself, and man does not conquer you. For see, a powerful man frightens you. With what does he frighten you? “I despoil, I fine, I torture, I kill.” And you cry, “Have mercy on me, Lord, for man has trampled on me.” If you speak the truth, you are looking at yourself: because you fear a man’s threats, a dead man tramples on you; and because you would not fear unless you were man, man tramples on you. What, then, is the remedy? O man, cling to God, by whom you were made man: cling to him, trust in him, call on him; let him be your strength. Say to him: “In you, Lord, is my strength.” And then you will sing in the face of men’s threats; and what you are to sing afterward, the Lord himself says: “In God I will hope; I will not fear what man can do to me.”

The miracles of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ move all who hear and believe them, but some in one way and others in another. For some, astonished at his bodily miracles, do not know how to look at greater ones; but others now admire more in souls what they hear was done in bodies. The Lord himself says, “For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will.” Not, of course, some the Son and others the Father, but the same ones the Father and the Son: for the Father does all things through the Son. So let no one who is a Christian doubt that even now the dead are raised. Every man has eyes with which he can see the dead rise as the son of this widow rose, who was read about just now from the Gospel; but the eyes with which people may see the dead rise in heart not all have, but only those who have already risen in heart. It is a greater thing to raise one who will live forever than to raise one who will die again.

Over that young man restored to life his widowed mother rejoiced: over people raised daily in the spirit mother church rejoices. He indeed was dead in body; they in mind. His visible death was visibly mourned; their invisible death was neither sought out nor seen. He sought it who knew the dead: he alone knew the dead who could make them alive. For if the Lord had not come to raise the dead, the apostle would not say, “Arise, sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.” You hear of a sleeper when he says, “Arise, sleeper”; but understand a dead man when you hear, “and rise from the dead.” Those visibly dead are often called sleepers. And plainly all are asleep to him who can wake them. For to you a dead man is dead, who, however much you knock, however much you pluck at him, however much you tear him, does not wake. But to Christ he was asleep to whom it was said, “Arise,” and at once he arose. No one wakes someone in bed as easily as Christ wakes someone in the tomb.

We find three dead people raised by the Lord visibly, thousands invisibly. But how many dead he raised visibly, who knows? For not all that he did was written: John says this, “Jesus did many other things, which if they were written, I think the whole world could not contain the books.” So without doubt many others were raised; but not for nothing are three recorded. For our Lord Jesus Christ wanted what he did bodily to be understood spiritually as well. For he did not do miracles merely for the sake of miracles, but so that what he did might be wonderful to those who saw and true to those who understood. Just as someone who sees letters in a beautifully written book and does not know how to read praises the copyist’s hand, admiring the beauty of the strokes, but does not know what they mean or what those strokes indicate; and he praises with his eyes but does not understand with his mind: while another both praises the workmanship and grasps the meaning, namely the one who can not only see what is common to all, but also read, which one who has not learned cannot do. So those who saw Christ’s miracles and did not understand what they meant, and what they in a way signaled to those who understood, only wondered that they were done; but others both wondered at the deeds and attained to their meaning. Such we ought to be in the school of Christ. For whoever says that Christ did miracles only so that they would be nothing but miracles can say that he did not even know it was not the season for figs when he looked for figs on the tree. For it was not the season for that fruit, as the evangelist testifies; and yet, hungry, he looked for fruit on the tree. Did Christ not know what a peasant knew? Did the creator of the tree not know what the tree’s cultivator knew? So when, hungry, he looked for fruit on the tree, he signified that he hungered for something and was seeking something else; and he found that tree without fruit and full of leaves, and cursed it, and it withered. What had the tree done by not bearing fruit? What fault in a tree is barrenness? But there are those who cannot give fruit by their will. Barrenness is the fault of those whose fruitfulness lies in their will. So the Jews were those who had the words of the law and did not have the deeds, full of leaves and bearing no fruit. I have said this to persuade you that our Lord Jesus Christ did miracles so as to signify something by those miracles, so that, besides their being wonderful and great and divine, we might also learn something from them.

Let us see, then, what he wanted us to learn in the three dead whom he raised. He raised the dead daughter of the ruler of the synagogue, for whom, when she was sick, he was asked to free her from her sickness. And as he goes, she is announced dead; and as if he were now troubling himself in vain, word was brought to her father: “The girl is dead; why trouble the Master further?” But he went on and said to the girl’s father, “Do not fear; only believe.” He comes to the house and finds the rites due to a funeral already prepared; and he says to them, “Do not weep; for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” He spoke the truth: she was sleeping, but to him by whom she could be woken. Waking her, he gave her back alive to her parents. He also woke this young man, the widow’s son, about whom we have now been prompted to speak with your Charity on the things he deigns to grant. You heard just now how he was woken. The Lord was approaching the city; and see, a dead man was already being carried out beyond the gate. Moved with mercy, because the widowed mother was weeping, bereft of her only son, he did what you heard, saying, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” The dead man rose, began to speak, and he gave him back to his mother. He also woke Lazarus from the tomb. And there, when the disciples with whom he was speaking knew that he was sick (and he loved him), he said, “Lazarus our friend is asleep.” They, thinking of a sick man’s healthy sleep, said, “Lord, if he is asleep, he will be well.” And he, now speaking more plainly: “I tell you, Lazarus our friend is dead.” Speaking truly both times: he is dead to you, asleep to me.

These three kinds of dead are three kinds of sinners, whom Christ still raises today. That dead daughter of the synagogue ruler was inside the house; she had not yet been carried out from the private walls into public. There inside she was raised and given back alive to her parents. This young man was no longer in the house, but not yet in the tomb: he had been carried out of the walls, but not committed to the earth. He who raised the dead girl not yet carried out raised the dead man already carried out but not yet buried. A third remained: that he should raise one buried as well; and he did this in Lazarus. There are, then, those who have sin inside in the heart, but not yet in the deed. Someone is stirred by some lust. For the Lord himself says, “Whoever looks at a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” He has not yet approached with the body, but he has consented in the heart: he has a dead person inside, he has not yet carried it out. And as happens, as we know, as people daily experience in themselves, sometimes, when they hear God’s word, as though the Lord were saying, “Arise,” the consent to iniquity is condemned, and one breathes again unto salvation and righteousness. The dead rises in the house; the heart revives in the secret place of thought. This resurrection of a dead soul has happened inside, within the hiding places of conscience, as within the walls of the house. Others after consent go on to the deed, as if carrying out the dead, so that what lay hidden in secret appears in public. Are these, who have gone on to the deed, now beyond hope? Was it not said to that young man too, “I say to you, arise”? Was he not given back to his mother too? So also one who has already done it, if perhaps, warned and moved by the word of truth, he rises at Christ’s voice, is given back alive. He could go forward; he could not perish forever. But those who, by doing what is evil, also entangle themselves in evil habit, so that the very habit of evil does not let them see that it is evil, become defenders of their evil deeds: they are angry when they are rebuked, so much so that the men of Sodom once said to the righteous man who rebuked their most wicked will, “You came to live here, not to make laws.” So great was the habit of unspeakable shamelessness there that wickedness was now justice, and the one who forbade was rebuked rather than the one who did it. Such people, weighed down by malignant habit, are as if buried. But what shall I say, brothers? So buried that, as was said of Lazarus, “He already stinks.” That mass laid on the tomb is the hard force of habit itself, by which the soul is pressed down and not allowed to rise or breathe.

But it was said, “He has been dead four days.” Truly, the soul reaches this habit I am speaking of by a kind of fourth step. For first there is, as it were, the tickle of pleasure in the heart; second, consent; third, the deed; fourth, habit. For there are those who so throw off unlawful things that present themselves to their thoughts that they take no pleasure in them. There are those who take pleasure and do not consent: death is not yet complete, but in a way begun. Consent is added to pleasure: now there is condemnation. After consent one goes on to the deed; the deed turns into habit; and a kind of hopelessness arises, so that it is said, “He has been dead four days; he already stinks.” So the Lord came, to whom of course all things were easy; and he shows you a certain difficulty. He groaned in spirit; he showed that much loud rebuke is needed for those who have hardened in habit. Yet at the cry of the Lord the bonds of necessity were broken. The dominion of hell trembled; Lazarus was given back alive. For the Lord frees from evil habit even those four days dead: for he too, four days dead, was only sleeping to Christ, who willed to raise him. But what does he say? See the manner of the raising. He came out of the tomb alive, and could not walk. And the Lord said to the disciples, “Unbind him and let him go.” He raised the dead; they unbound the bound. See that something belongs to the proper majesty of God who raises. Someone set in evil habit is rebuked by the word of truth. How many are rebuked and do not listen! Who, then, works inwardly with the one who listens? Who breathes life within? Who is it that drives out hidden death and gives hidden life? Are not people, after rebukes and reproofs, left to their own thoughts, and do they not begin to turn over within themselves what an evil life they lead, by what a very bad habit they are pressed down? Then, displeased with themselves, they resolve to change their life. These have risen; those have come back to life who are displeased with what they were: but coming back to life they cannot walk. These are the bonds of guilt itself. So the one who has come back to life must be unbound and allowed to go. This office he gave to the disciples, to whom he said, “Whatever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven also.”

Let us hear these things, then, dearly beloved, so that those who are alive may live, and those who are dead may come back to life. If the sin has so far been conceived in the heart and has not gone on to the deed, let there be repentance, let the thought be corrected, let the dead rise inside the house of conscience. If he has already committed what he thought, even so let there be no despair. The dead did not rise inside; let him rise when carried out. Let him repent of the deed, let him come back to life at once: let him not go into the depth of burial, let him not receive on top of him the mass of habit. But perhaps I am now speaking to one who is already pressed down by the hard stone of his own practice, who is already burdened with the weight of habit, who already stinks, four days dead. Let not even him despair: he is dead deep down, but Christ is on high. He knows how to burst earthly burdens by his cry; he knows how to give life within by himself, and to hand over the man to the disciples to be unbound. Let even such people repent. For in Lazarus, raised after four days, no stench remained once he was alive. So let those who live, live; and let all who are dead, in whichever of these three deaths they find themselves, act so that they may now rise quickly.