Homilies on 1 Timothy

“If anyone aspires to the office of oversight, he desires a good work. The overseer, then, must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, sober, self-controlled, orderly, hospitable, apt to teach, not given to wine, gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money, managing his own household well, having children in subjection with all dignity.” 1. As he is about to come down to his discourse on the office of oversight, he shows once for all what kind of man the overseer must be. He does not do it as part of his exhortation to Timothy, but as one speaking to all, and through him he gives order to all. And what does he say? “If anyone aspires to the office of oversight,” I do not blame him, he says, for it is a work of protective care. If anyone has this desire, so as to desire not the rule and the authority but the protective care, I do not blame him: “for he desires a good work,” he says. For Moses too desired the work, but not the power; and he desired it so that he heard: “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” If anyone desires it so, let him desire it; for oversight (episkopē) is so called from overseeing (episkopein) all. “The overseer, then,” he says, “must be above reproach, the husband of one wife.” He does not say this as legislating, as though it were not permitted to become one without this, but restraining excess; since among the Jews it was permitted both to engage in second marriages and to have two wives at the same time. “For marriage is honourable.” But some say that this was said so that he should be the husband of one wife. “Above reproach”: in saying “above reproach” he named every virtue. So if anyone is conscious of some sins in himself, he does not do well to desire a work from which he has excluded himself by his deeds; such a man ought not to rule but to be ruled. For the ruler must be brighter than any lamp and have a spotless life, so that all may look to him and model their own life on his. He does this not simply in using such an exhortation; but since he himself was about to appoint overseers, as he also urged in writing to Titus, and since it was likely that many desired the office, for this reason he gives these charges. “Sober,” he says, that is, clear-sighted, having countless eyes on every side, seeing sharply, and not dulling the eye of the mind. For many things befall that do not allow one to see clearly and as things are: despondencies, cares, a crowd of affairs, and much else flows in from every side. He must therefore be watchful, caring not only for his own affairs but also for those of others; he must be wide awake, fervent in spirit, breathing fire, so to speak, and toil and serve more than a general who goes round his army by night and by day, and have care and concern for all. “Self-controlled, orderly, hospitable.” Since many of those who are ruled also have these (for they too must be equal to the rulers in such things), to show what is distinctive of overseers he added, “apt to teach”; for this is no longer required of the one who is ruled, but it must above all be present in the one entrusted with this rule. “Not given to wine”: he does not mean the drunkard here, but the insolent, the arrogant. “Not a striker”: he does not mean one who does not strike with his hands. What then is “not a striker”? Since there are some who strike the consciences of the brothers unseasonably, it seems to me he hints at these. “Not greedy for gain … gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money, managing his own household well, having children in subjection with all dignity.” If, then, one who has married cares for the things of the world, and the overseer must not care for the things of the world, how does he say “the husband of one wife”? Some say that he meant one who remained free from a wife; but if this is not so, it is possible for one who has a wife to be as though he had none. For then he rightly granted this, in view of the nature of the situation as it was at that time. And it is possible to manage it well, if one wishes. For just as wealth brings one into the kingdom of heaven with difficulty, yet in many cases the rich have entered, so too with marriage. But what are you saying, tell me? Discoursing about an overseer he said that he must not be a drunkard but hospitable, when he ought to have said greater things than these. Why did he not say that the overseer must be an angel, subject to no human passion (those great things which Christ spoke, which even those who are ruled must have: to be crucified, and always to have one's life in one's hands; as Christ also said, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep,” and again, “If anyone does not take up his cross and follow after me, he is not worthy of me”), but says, “Not given to wine”? Fine hopes, if the overseer must be exhorted about these things! Why did you not say, “He must already have departed from the earth”? What you commanded to people in the world, you do not command to the overseer. And what did he command them? “Put to death your members that are on the earth”; and again, “He who has died has been justified from sin”; and again, “Those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh”; and Christ again says, “If anyone does not renounce all that he has, he is not worthy of me.” Why then has he not said these things? Because it was possible to find few such men, but many overseers were needed, and to be set over each city…

… Since, then, the affairs of the churches were going to be beset, he spoke for this reason of a measured virtue, not that one on high, the lofty one; for to be sober and orderly and self-controlled was within the reach of many. “Having children,” he says, “in subjection with all dignity.” For he must furnish examples from his own home. For who would believe that one who has not subjected his own son will subject a stranger? “Managing his own household well.” Those outside say this too: that a good manager of a household would quickly become a good statesman. For the church is, as it were, a small household; and just as in a household there are children, a wife, servants, and the husband has taken up the rule over all, so too in the church there is nothing else than this: children, women, servants. And if the one who presides over the church has partners in his rule, the husband there too has his wife as partner. But must one here care for the provision for widows and virgins? There too the husband has his slaves and his daughters; and besides, it is easier to rule a household. So one who has not managed these things well, how will he be able to manage the affairs of the church? Then, having said, “If anyone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he take care of the church of God?”, he says, “Not a new plant.” He does not mean the younger man here, but the newly instructed; for “I planted,” he says, “Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” Wishing to make this one plain, he said this. For what prevented him from saying, “not younger”? Why then, he says, did he himself appoint Timothy, being young? And he testifies to this, saying to him, “Let no one despise your youth.” Because he knew him to have much virtue, great strictness of life; knowing this he says in writing, “From infancy you have learned the sacred writings.” And that he also kept intense fasting the words show: “Use a little wine because of your frequent ailments”; writing to him about this among other things, since he would neither have written so nor given his disciple such charges unless these things had been accomplished by him. Since, then, many from among the Greeks were brought to the dignity of rule as new plants, that is, newly instructed. For if, before becoming a disciple, he quickly became a teacher, he would come to arrogance; if, before learning to be ruled, he became one of the rulers, he would be puffed up. For this reason he added: “lest, being puffed up, he fall into the condemnation of the devil,” that is, into the same condemnation that the devil underwent from his arrogance. “He must also have a good testimony from those outside, so that he does not fall into reproach and the snare of the devil.” Well said; for he is going to be reproached by them. Perhaps it was for this reason too that he said, “the husband of one wife,” although saying elsewhere, “I wish all men to be as I myself am,” that is, in continence. So that he might not confine the matter to narrow limits by requiring an exact way of life, he required for this reason a measured virtue. For a leader had to be appointed in each city; for hear him writing to Titus: “that you may appoint presbyters in every city, as I directed you.” But what if he has a good testimony and good repute, but is not such a man? This is very difficult indeed; for it is something to be content with if upright men have upright repute among their enemies. But he did not leave this alone either; for he did not say, “He must have a testimony,” but “He must also have a testimony,” as being with the other things, not this alone. What then, if they speak ill of him at random and out of envy, especially since they are Greeks? This does not happen; for they too respect one who has a life that cannot be laid hold of. How so? he says. Hear him saying about himself, “Through ill report and good report.” For they did not lay hold of their life but of their preaching; for this reason he says, “through ill report.” They were slandered as deceivers and sorcerers because of the preaching. And they did this since they had nothing in their life to lay hold of. For why did no one say of the apostles that they were fornicators and licentious and greedy, but “deceivers,” which concerned only the preaching? Was it not because they had a life beyond reproach? That is plain. Let us also, then, live so, and no one will speak ill of us, even if he is an enemy, even if an unbeliever. For one who has a shining life is respected even by them; for the truth stops the mouths even of enemies. But how does he fall into a snare? By often falling into the same sins as they. For if he is such, the devil quickly sets another snare for him too, and they quickly destroy him. But if … he must have the testimony from enemies, much more that from friends. For that one who leads a blameless life cannot be ill spoken of, hear Christ saying: “Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” What then, he says, if he is falsely accused and suffers slander by force of circumstance? This too may happen; but even such a man ought not to be brought into the midst, for the danger is great. He must, then, he says, have a good testimony; for “let your works shine.” Just as no one would call the sun dark, not even the blind man himself, for he is ashamed to fight against the opinions of all, so no one would blame one who is truly good; but the Greeks would often slander them on account of their doctrines, yet they would not lay hold of an upright life, but would admire it with the others…

Let us live, then, so that the name of God is not blasphemed. Let us neither look to human glory nor live so as to get a bad name, but let us honour the right measure in both. “Among whom you shine,” he says, “as lights in the world.” For this reason he left us here, that we might be as lights, that we might be set up as teachers of others, that we might become as leaven, that we might go about with men as angels, as men among little children, as spiritual among the unspiritual, that they may gain, that we may be seeds, that we may bear much fruit. There would be no need of words if our life shone so; no need of teachers if we displayed works. There would be no Greek if we were Christians as we ought to be: if we kept the commandments, if when reviled we blessed, if when ill treated we did good, no one would be so much a beast as not to run to godliness, if these things were done by all. And that you may learn: Paul was one, and he drew so many. If we were all such, how many worlds would we not have drawn? See, the Christians are more numerous than the pagans. And in other crafts one man can teach a hundred boys at once; but here, though the teachers are more numerous and the disciples far more numerous, no one comes over. For those who are taught look to the virtue of the teachers; and when they see that we too desire the same things, aim at the same things, ruling and being honoured, how will they be able to admire Christianity? They see lives open to reproach, earthly souls; we admire money as they do, and much more; we shudder at death as they do, we fear poverty as they do, we are as impatient of sickness as they, we love glory and power as they do; wearing ourselves out for love of money, we serve the times. From what, then, are they to believe? From signs? But these do not happen. From conduct? But it has perished. From love? But nowhere is even a trace of it seen. For this reason we … not only for our own sins but also for the harm done to others … let us show on earth a heavenly way of life; let us say, “Our citizenship is in heaven,” and let us display the contest on earth. But, someone says, there were great men among us. How shall I believe it? says the Greek; for I do not see you doing the same things as they. For if these things must be recounted, we too, he says, have great philosophers, admirable for their life. But show me another Paul and John; but you cannot. How, then, will he not laugh when we argue so? How will he not consent to sit still in ignorance, seeing us practising philosophy not in deeds but in words? For now each of you is ready both to be killed and to kill for a single obol; for a ladle of earth you set up countless lawsuits; for the death of a child you turn everything upside down. I pass over the other things that are worthy of much mourning, such as auguries, omens, divinations, incantations, magic. Truly these are great things, and enough to call down the wrath of God, that even after he sent his own Son we dare such things. What is there to do, then? Nothing else but mourn; for scarcely a small fraction of the world is saved. But those who are perishing rejoice when they hear this, as though they did not undergo it alone but with many. And what joy is this? For they will pay the penalty for that very joy. Do not think that, as here to be partners in misfortunes brings consolation, so it is there too. From where is this clear? I will make it plain. Tell me: if someone were ordered to be burned, and then saw his son burned with him, and the reek rising from the flesh, would he not die? Assuredly; and how, I say. For if those who do not suffer these things, when they see them happen, grow numb and faint, much more will those who are afflicted suffer this. And do not wonder; for hear a wise man saying, “You too have been taken as we were, and you have been counted among us.” For human nature somehow has fellow feeling by nature, and we are crushed by the misfortunes of others. Tell me, then: will a father, seeing his son lying under the same penalty, receive consolation or an addition to his woes? And a husband his wife? And a man another man? Are we not then crushed the more? Yes, he says; but these passions do not exist there. I know it too; but others far harsher: for there will be weeping without consolation then, as all see one another, as all beat their breasts. Tell me, do those in famine receive consolation for their own evils from sharing them with others? And what when a child, or a father, and wife, and descendants undergo the same penalty? And what when we see friends, do we have consolation? There is none, there is none; rather, our woes are intensified. And apart from these, there are evils that, because of their severity, have no consolation from being shared. I mean, for example: let one man lie in fire, and another too; how will they console one another? Tell me, I beg you: if we have ever been in a violent fever, did not everything of consolation fail us? Naturally; for when woes prevail, the soul would no longer have leisure to be consoled. Or do you not see women who have lost their husbands, how many other women they can count who have suffered the same? Yet their grief becomes no less for this. Let us not, then, in this … to repent of our sins and to keep to the good road that leads to heaven, that we may obtain the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 1. Many think that their own virtue suffices them for salvation, and if they order their own life well, they think that nothing more is lacking to them for salvation. But they do not think rightly. This is shown by the man who buried the one talent; for he did not bring it back diminished, but whole, just as the one who entrusted it had given it. And blessed Paul shows it here too, saying: “But if anyone does not provide for his own.” He means every kind of provision, for the soul and for the body, since this too is provision. He who does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, that is, those related by kinship, is, he says, worse than an unbeliever. Isaiah too, the chief of the prophets, says this: “You shall not overlook those of your own seed.” For if someone neglects those who are his by birth and united to him by close kinship, how will he be affectionate toward others? Will not everyone call it vainglory, when he does good to strangers but despises and does not spare his own? And what when he instructs others but overlooks these in error, although he has greater ease and a greater right in doing them good? Assuredly; for will they not say, “Affectionate indeed are the Christians who overlook their own!” “And he is worse,” he says, “than an unbeliever.” Why? Because that man, even if he overlooks strangers, does not overlook those near him. What he means is this: one who neglects his own wrongs both the law of God and the law of nature. And if one who does not provide for his own has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever, where will one be ranked who even wrongs his own, with whom will he stand? And how has he denied the faith? “They profess,” he says, “to know God, but deny him by their works.” And what did the God in whom they believed command? Not to overlook those of one's own seed. How does such a man believe, who has become a denier of God? Let us consider how many of us, sparing our money, despise our own. God devised the union of kinship for this reason, that we might have many occasions of doing one another good. When, then, you do not do what even the unbeliever does, have you not denied the faith? So faith is not only believing by confession, but also displaying works worthy of it; and in each matter it is possible to believe and not to believe. For since he had spoken of luxury and self-indulgence, he says: she has perished not only in this, that she lives in luxury, but because she is also compelled to overlook her own. He rightly says this; for she who lives for her belly has perished in this too, by denying the faith. And how is she worse than an unbeliever? Because it is not the same to overlook one's own and one who is far off; how could it be? The charge is greater here, to overlook an acquaintance rather than a stranger, a friend rather than one who is not a friend. “Let a widow be enrolled not less than sixty years old, having been the wife of one husband, well attested for good works.” He said, “Let them learn first to repay their parents”; he said, “She who lives in self-indulgence is dead while she lives”; he said, “If anyone does not provide for his own, he is worse than an unbeliever”; he said the things without which she is unworthy of the roll of widows; here he says what she must have besides. What then? Shall we admit her on account of her years? And what achievement is that? For it is not her doing that she has reached sixty years. Not from age alone, he says; for even if she passes that age but does not have the works, not even then let her be enrolled. Why he is so exact about the age he gives the reason later, brought forward not from himself but from the widows themselves. Meanwhile let us hear what follows: “Well attested,” he says, “for good works.” What works? “If she has brought up children.” Truly this is no small work, bringing up children. And bringing up children is not simply feeding the children but bringing them up as one ought, as he said above: “If they continue in faith and love and holiness.” Do you see how everywhere he puts kindness to one's own before kindness to strangers? For first he says, “If she has brought up children,” and then, “If she has shown hospitality, if she has washed the feet of the saints, if she has relieved the afflicted, if she has devoted herself to every good work.” What then, if she is poor? Not even so is she deprived of bringing up children, or of showing hospitality, or of relieving the afflicted. Even if she is poor, she has a house; she does not live in the open air. “If she has washed the feet of the saints,” he says. This is no expense. “If she has devoted herself to every good work.” What kind of command does he give here? He urges her to contribute bodily service; for women are especially suited to tending the sick, the bed …

Wonderful! How much exactness he demands of the widow, almost as much as of the one who holds the office of bishop himself! For “if she has devoted herself to every good work” shows that, even if she could not do it herself, she nevertheless took part in it. Cutting away self-indulgence, he wishes her to be provident … Such was Anna. See how much exactness he demands of the widow, more than even of virgins; and yet of them too he demanded great exactness and the height of virtue. For in saying “… without distraction” he comprehends, as it were in summary, all virtue. Do you see that not having engaged in a second marriage does not suffice to show her a widow, but many other things are needed? For why, tell me, does he urge her not to engage in a second marriage? Did he condemn the thing? By no means; that belongs to heretics. But he wishes her thereafter to be occupied with spiritual things and to transfer herself to virtue. For marriage is a matter not of uncleanness but of occupation; since when he says, “that they may have leisure,” he does not say, “that they may be cleansed.” For marriage is truly the cause of much occupation. If, then, you do not marry for this reason, that you may have leisure for the fear of God, but you do not use the leisure, the thing is of no profit to you; namely, that you may show all your service toward strangers, toward the saints. When, then, you do not do these things, you have kept from marriage rather as one who condemns the thing. So too the virgin who is not crucified with exactness has declined marriage by condemning it as defiled and unclean. Do you see that he speaks of hospitality, not mere friendliness, but that done with zeal, with a cheerful will, with eagerness, that goes about the thing as receiving Christ himself? For he does not wish the service of these to be enjoined on maidservants, but that women do these things themselves; for “if I, the teacher,” he says, “have washed your feet, much more ought you to do this for one another.” For even if a woman is ten thousand times rich, even if she happens to be in some very great eminence and prides herself on the nobility of her ancestors, the distance is not so great as between God and the disciples. If you receive as receiving Christ, be in no way ashamed; rather be proud of the thing. But if you do not receive as receiving Christ, do not receive at all. “He who receives you,” he says, “receives me.” If you do not receive so, you have no reward either. Abraham received men passing by as wayfarers, as he thought, and did not leave everything to the servants to prepare for the reception; but he did the greater part of the service himself, and his wife too, though he had three hundred and eighteen born in his house, among whom it is likely there were also maidservants. But he wished to have the reward with his wife, not only for the expense but also for the service. So we must show hospitality, doing everything ourselves, that we may be sanctified, that our hands may be blessed. And if you give to the poor, do not disdain to give with your own hand; for you do not give to the poor man but to Christ. And who is so wretched as to disdain to stretch out his hand to Christ? This is hospitality; this is truly to do it for God's sake. But if you give orders with pride, even if you bid the guest enjoy the first places, such a thing is not hospitality, nor is it for God's sake. The stranger needs much attention, much encouragement; for it is something to be content with if even after so much he does not blush. Since the thing is of such a nature that the one who receives a kindness is ashamed, one must remove the shame by an excess of attention, and show by words and deeds that the one who does good does not do good but receives good himself, and is benefited rather than benefits. So what is done is multiplied by the will. For just as one who thinks he is suffering loss has lost everything, and one who thinks he is doing a kindness has lost everything, so one who thinks he is receiving a kindness has received more; “for God loves a cheerful giver.” So you owe thanks to the poor man rather than he to you for receiving. For if there were no poor, you would not cut away the greater part of your sins. They are physicians of your wounds; they offer you their own hands as medicines. A physician stretching out his hands and applying a remedy does not give healing as a poor man does, stretching out his hand and receiving what you give; he is a sponge that wipes away your evils. You gave the silver, and your sins went out with it. Such too are the priests: “They will eat the sins of my people,” he says. So you receive more than you give; you are benefited rather than benefiting; you lend to God, not to men; you increase your wealth, you do not diminish it; you diminish it if you do not lessen it, if you do not give. “If she has shown hospitality,” he says, “if she has washed the feet of the saints.” Of which saints? Of the afflicted, not simply of saints; for it is possible to be saints and enjoy much attention from all. Do not pursue those who are in abundance, but those in affliction, the unknown, those not known by many. “Whoever did it to one of the least of these,” he says, “did it to me.”

Do not give it to those who preside over the church to distribute; serve yourself, so that you may have the reward not only for spending but also for ministering. Give with your own hands; sow the furrow yourself. Here there is no need to fix a plough, nor to yoke an ox, nor to wait for a season; this seed is freed from such toil. For you sow into heaven, where there is no frost, no winter, nothing else; you sow into souls, where no one carries off what is cast, but it is held fast, with great care and great zeal. Sow yourself. Why do you deprive yourself of the reward? It is a great reward to be able to manage even what belongs to others. There is a reward not only for giving but also for managing well what is given. Why do you not take the reward? For that there is a reward for this too, hear: “The apostles,” he says, “appointed Stephen and those with him to the service of the widows.” Become the steward of your own; love for humankind itself, the fear of God, appoints you. This is free from vainglory too; this refreshes souls, sanctifies hands, pulls down pride, teaches philosophy, makes one more eager, makes you receive the blessings: your head goes away receiving all the blessings of the widows. Be more eager in prayers; seek out holy men too, those truly holy, those who sit in the deserts, who cannot beg, who give themselves to God. Walk a long road, give with your own hand; for there is much to gain by yourself if you give. Do you see the tent and the lodging? Do you see the desert? Do you see the solitude? Often, having gone to give money, you have given … your soul, you have gone abroad from the world with them. It is a great thing also to see the poor. “It is good,” he says, “to go into a house of mourning rather than into a house of laughter.” From there the soul becomes inflamed. For if you are able to live in luxury like them, you have received an incitement to self-indulgence; and if you are not able, you have received grief. But in the house of mourning there is nothing of the kind; even if you cannot live in luxury, you have felt no pain. Truly a house of mourning are the monasteries, where there are sackcloth and ashes, where there is solitude, where there is no laughter and no crowd of worldly affairs, where there is fasting, where there is sleeping on the ground, everything free of the smell of roast meat, of blood, of uproar, of disturbance, of crowds. It is a calm harbour; they are like lamps shining from on high to those who approach from afar, sitting by the harbour and drawing all to their own calm, not letting those who look to them be shipwrecked, not letting those who look there pass their lives in darkness. Go to them … approach, touch holy feet; for it is far more honourable to touch their feet than the head of others. Tell me: if some clasp the feet of statues because they bear a royal likeness at all, will you not clasp by the feet the one who has Christ himself within him, and be saved? Holy are the feet, even if they are poor; but of the profane not even the head is honourable. For the feet of saints have had great power; that is why they also punish when they shake off the dust from themselves. When a saint is with us, let us be ashamed of nothing of his. And all are saints who have right faith together with a right life; even if they work no signs, even if they cast out no demons, they are saints. Go to the tents of the saints: to take refuge in the monastery of a holy man is like going from earth to heaven. You do not see there the things you see in a household: that whole company is pure; there is silence and much quiet; “mine” and “yours” are not there. And if you stay one day or a second, you will feel the pleasure more. Day comes, or rather before day the cock has crowed. And it is not as in a household: the servants snoring, the doors shut, everyone sleeping like the dead, the muleteer shaking his bells. There is nothing of the kind there; but at once all, shaking off sleep with reverence, rise up as their superior wakes them, stand, form the holy choir, at once stretch up their hands, and sing the sacred hymns. For they do not need many hours, as we do, to shake off sleep and heaviness. For we, as soon as we rise, stretch at length, go to relieve ourselves, then wash our face and hands; after this we take our shoes and clothes, and much time is spent.

But there there is nothing of the kind. No one calls a servant, for each one suffices for himself; he does not need many garments, he does not need to shake off sleep; but as soon as he has opened his eyes, he is like one who has been awake a long time, because of his sobriety. For when the heart is not weighed down and sunk by food, it does not need much time to come up again but is at once sober; hands always clean, for the sleep too is orderly. No one hears snoring there, no one hears heavy breathing, nor does one see anyone tossing about in sleep or uncovered, but they sleep lying more decently than the waking. All this comes from the good order within the soul. Truly these are saints and angels among men. And do not wonder when you hear these things; for their great fear of God does not let them sink into the depths of sleep and drown their mind, but sleep lies on them lightly, only refreshing them. Since their sleep is such, their dreams too must be such, not full of fantasies or monstrous. But, as I said, the cock crowed, and at once the superior came, and, simply nudging the one lying there with his foot, roused them all; for it is not permitted to sleep naked there. Then, having risen, they at once stand, singing the hymns of the prophets with much harmony, with well-measured melodies. Neither lyre, nor pipes, nor any other musical instrument gives out such a sound as one may hear in deep quiet and in the desert from those saints singing. And the songs themselves are fitting and full of love for God. “In the nights,” it says, “lift up your hands to God”; and again, “By night my spirit rises early to you, O God, because your commandments are light on the earth.” And the songs of David stir many fountains of tears. For when he sings, saying, “I am weary with my groaning; every night I will wash my bed, I will drench my couch with my tears”; and again, “I have eaten ashes like bread”; and again, “What is man, that you are mindful of him?” “Man has become like vanity; his days pass away like a shadow”; and, “Do not be afraid when a man becomes rich, and when the glory of his house is increased”; and again, “He who makes those of one mind dwell in a house”; and, “Seven times a day I have praised you for the judgments of your righteousness”; and again, “At midnight … for the judgments of your righteousness”; and, “God will redeem my soul from the hand of Hades”; and, “Though I walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me”; and, “from the arrow that flies by day, from the thing that walks in darkness, from mischance …”; “we are counted as sheep for the slaughter”: he shows their burning love for God. And when again they sing with the angels (for angels too sing then), “Praise the Lord from the heavens” … while others lie on their backs and devise countless deceits, what a thing it is that they spend the whole night in this! When day is about to come, they then rest; and when we begin our work, they have their time of rest. When day has come, each of us calls the other, makes the account of expenses; one rushes to the market, stands before a magistrate, trembles, fears the audits; another goes to the theatre, another to his own trade. But they, having again performed the morning prayers and hymns, turn to the reading of the Scriptures; and there are some who have learned to copy books. Each takes one cell assigned to him and practises quiet always, no one chattering, no one saying anything. Then they perform the third, sixth, and ninth hours, and the evening prayers; and dividing the day into four parts, at the completion of each part they honour God with psalmody and hymns. While all the others are taking their midday meal, laughing, playing, bursting with gluttony, they give themselves to the hymns. Nowhere is there time for the table, nor for these things of sense. After the meal they keep to the same things again, having first given themselves to sleep. People in the world sleep even by day; but they keep watch even by night. Truly they are sons of light. Then the others, having spent the greater part of the day in sleep, go out heavy; but these are still sober, remaining without food until late and giving themselves to the hymns. When evening comes again, the others hurry to the baths and to their relaxations; but they, releasing themselves from their labours, then give themselves to the table, not rousing a crowd of servants, nor running about the house, nor making an uproar, nor setting out many dishes full of the smell of roast meat; but some have bread only and salt, others add oil, and others, the weaker ones, take also vegetables and pulses. Then, sitting a little while, or rather … with hymns, the whole made only for rest, not for luxury. There is no fear of magistrates there, no arrogance of masters, no fear of slaves, no clamour of women, no disturbance of children, no multitude of chests, no superfluous store of garments, no gold, no silver; there are no guards and sentries there, no storeroom, nothing else of the kind; but all is full of prayer, all of hymns, all of spiritual fragrance; there is nothing carnal there. They do not fear the attacks of robbers, for they have nothing to lose; there is no money; there is a body and a soul; if they take that away, they have not harmed but helped. “For to me to live,” he says, “is Christ, and to die is gain.” They have freed themselves from all bonds. Truly “the voice of rejoicing is in the tents of the righteous.”

There one never hears wailing or lamentation; that roof is free of these unpleasant things, free of this crying. For they die among them too, since they are not immortal in body; but they do not know death as death. They escort the departed with hymns; they call this an escort, not a funeral. And if it is announced that so-and-so has died, there is great gladness, great pleasure; or rather, no one dares to say that so-and-so has died, but that so-and-so has been made perfect. Then there is thanksgiving, much glory, gladness, each one praying to receive such an end, to come out of this contest so, to rest from labours and contests, to see Christ. And if one falls sick, there are no tears, no lamentation, but prayers again; not the hands of physicians, but faith alone has often freed the sick man. And if he should need physicians too, there is much philosophy here also, much endurance; no wife stands by tearing her hair, no children bewailing the orphanhood that has not yet come, no servants begging the dying man to entrust them safely to someone; but the soul, freed from all these things, looks to one thing only at its last breath, how it may depart a friend of God. And if sickness comes, it does not come from gluttony or from heaviness, but the very causes of their sicknesses are full of praise, not accusation, as ours are: either the intensity of vigils or of fasting or something of that kind produces the sicknesses. Hence … equally freed from all evils. 6. Tell me, then, he says, if someone has washed the feet of the saints in the church: is it possible to find such men here too? It is possible, quite possible; only let us not, because we have described the life of those men, despise those in the churches. There are often many such men even in the midst of the churches, but hidden. For let us not despise them because they go round houses, or because they go into the market, or because they preside. God commanded this too: “Judge for the orphan,” he says, “and vindicate the widow.” Many are the ways of virtue, as there is great difference among pearls, though all are called pearls; one is bright and round on every side, another lacks this beauty but has another. What is that? As if by some art, the coral has an elongated line and its angles carved; one is more pleasing than white colour, the green far more pleasing than any verdure; another offers the brightness of blood with its bloom, another is bluer than the sea, another more brilliant than purple; and one could find countless others vying with flowers in variety, or equalling the colours of the sun. Such are the saints too: some train themselves, others the churches as well. Rightly, then, he said, “If she has washed the feet of the saints, if she has relieved the afflicted”; he spoke so in order to rouse all to imitation. Let us too, then, run to the work, that we may be able to boast there that we have washed the feet of saints. And if we must wash their feet, much more must we hand them money with our own hand, and strive to remain hidden. “Let not your left hand know,” he says, “what your right hand is doing.” Why do you take countless witnesses? Let not even your servant see, if it is possible, nor your wife. Many are the stumbling-blocks of the deceiver; often she who has never hindered will hinder then, either from vainglory or from something else. For Abraham too, though he had an admirable wife, hid it when he was about to offer up his son, though he did not know what would happen, but was persuaded that he would certainly kill him. What then would she have said, if she were one of the common sort? Would she not have said, “Who is this man who does these things?” Would she not have accused him of harshness and boorishness? The wife was not even thought worthy to see her own child, nor to hear his last voice, nor to behold him struggling; but he took him and led him away like a captive. But that righteous man thought of none of these things, drunk with longing; for he saw nothing else but how he might carry out what was commanded; neither son was there, nor wife; or rather he did not even know himself what would happen. So eager was he in every way to offer the sacrifice pure, not to defile it with tears or with protest. And see with what gentleness Isaac asks, and what he says to him: “Here are the wood and the fire; where is the sheep?” What then does the father say? “God will provide himself a sheep for a whole burnt offering, my child.” This is said also as a prophecy, that God will provide his Son for himself as a whole burnt offering; and at the same time it came to pass then too. Why do you hide it from him too, tell me … Yes, he says, I fear lest he grow numb, I fear lest he be found unworthy. Do you see with what great exactness he did everything? Rightly, then, Scripture said, “Let not … your left hand know what your right hand is doing”; that is, even if we have someone as a member of ourselves, let us not be eager to show him, unless there is necessity. For many evils come from this. One is lifted up to vainglory; a hindrance often arises. For this reason let us hide even from ourselves, if possible, that we may obtain the promised good things, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, now and always, and to the ages of ages.

“But refuse younger widows; for when they grow wanton against Christ, they wish to marry, incurring condemnation because they have set aside their first faith. At the same time they also learn to be idle, going about from house to house; and not only idle, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. I wish, then, the younger widows to marry, to bear children, to manage their households, to give the adversary no occasion for reviling. For some have already turned aside after Satan.” 1. Paul, having made a long discourse about widows, and having fixed their age by saying, “Let a widow be enrolled not less than sixty years old,” and having taught the character of the widow by saying, “if she has brought up children, if she has shown hospitality, if she has washed the feet of the saints,” says here again: “But refuse younger widows.” About virgins, although the matter is far more burdensome, he hints at nothing of the kind. Naturally. Why? Because they enrolled themselves for greater things, and the work proceeded there from a greater purpose. The things, then, of “if she has shown hospitality, if she has washed the feet of the saints,” and all such things, he indicated through “devoted” and through saying, “The unmarried woman cares for the things of the Lord.” And if he is not exact about their age, do not wonder; for that too is especially clear from this. And besides, I said that they held to virginity from a greater purpose. Moreover, here falls had already happened, and these women provided the occasion for such legislation; but there there was nothing of the kind. For that some had already fallen is clear from this, from his saying, “For when they grow wanton against Christ, they wish to marry”; and again, “For some have already turned aside after Satan.” “But refuse younger widows.” Why? “For when they grow wanton against Christ, they wish to marry.” What is “when they grow wanton”? … as when one says of a woman with a kindly husband … that she has become another's. He shows, then, that they chose widowhood without due thought, not from judgment. So the widow too is joined to Christ in her widowhood; for “I am,” he says, “the protector of widows and the father of orphans.” He shows that they do not choose widowhood rightly, but grow wanton; and yet he bears it. And indeed elsewhere he says, “I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ.” When they have been named his, he says, “they wish to marry, incurring condemnation because they have set aside their first faith.” By “faith” he means the compact, the troth; as if he said: they have been false to him, they have broken the compact. “At the same time they also learn to be idle.” So he enjoins work not on men only but also on women; for idleness has taught every vice. They are answerable not for this fault only, he says, but for other faults too. If, then, it is unbecoming for a woman to go about from house to house, much more for a virgin. “And not only idle,” he says, “but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not.” “I wish, then, the younger widows to marry, to bear children, to manage their households.” What then happens when the care of a husband is gone and the care of God does not hold them? Naturally they become idle, talkative, busybodies. For one who does not care for his own affairs will certainly care for another's; just as one who minds his own affairs will take no account of others', will have no concern for them. “Saying what they should not.” Nothing is so unbecoming to a woman as to meddle in others' affairs; and not to a woman only, but to a man too; for this is the greatest sign of shamelessness and impudence. “I wish, then.” Since these women wish it, I too wish the younger widows to marry; this is better than doing those things. They ought indeed to care for the things of God, they ought to keep their faith; but since those things do not happen, it is better that these should happen than those; for neither is God set aside, nor do they learn those things. For from that widowhood nothing good will come; but from this marriage many good things; from this she will be able to turn back the gaping and slackness of her mind. And why, he asks, did he not say, “Since widows have fallen, they ought to enjoy much care, so as not to suffer what I said,” but enjoined marriage? Because it is not forbidden, when it sets them in safety. That is why he adds, “to give the adversary no occasion for reviling,” nor any … “For some have already turned aside after Satan.” He forbids, then, such widows, not because he does not wish there to be younger widows, but because he does not wish them to be adulteresses, does not wish them to be idle and busybodies, saying what they should not, does not wish the devil to get an occasion; so that, if such things did not happen, he would not have forbidden it. “If any believing man or woman has widows, let them relieve them, and let the church not be burdened, so that it may relieve those who are truly widows.” Do you see how again he calls truly widows those who are left alone, who have consolation from nowhere? For so it was better; for the greatest two things came about: those gained an occasion of doing good, these were well maintained, and the church was not burdened. Rightly he added, “If any believing”; for believing women ought not to be maintained by unbelievers, so that they might not seem to need them. And see how consolingly he speaks; he did not say, Some extravagance … “so that the church,” he says, “may relieve those who are truly widows.” So she too has the reward of this help; for she who helps this one helps not this one only but also those others, letting them be maintained with greater abundance. “I wish the younger widows” to do what? To live in luxury? To be self-indulgent? Nothing of the kind; but “to marry, to bear children, to manage their households.” For lest you think he urges them to luxury, he added: “to give the adversary no occasion for reviling.” They ought indeed to be above worldly things; but since they have become lower, let them at least stand firm in these. “Let the presbyters who preside well be counted worthy of double honour, especially those who labour in word and teaching. For the Scripture says, “You shall not muzzle an ox that treads out the grain,” and, “The worker is worthy of his wages.”

By “honour” he means here maintenance, the supply of necessities. For his adding, “You shall not muzzle an ox that treads out the grain,” and, “The worker is worthy of his wages,” shows this. So when he says, “Honour widows,” he says this of the supply of necessary food; “so that it may relieve those who are truly widows,” he says; and again, “Honour those who are truly widows,” that is, those in poverty; for the more a woman is in poverty, the more she is a widow. He sets down the saying of the law and the saying of Christ, both agreeing. For the law says, “You shall not muzzle an ox that treads out the grain.” Do you see how he wishes the teacher to toil? For there is no other labour, none, like his. But that is the law's; how does he also set down Christ's? “For the worker,” he says, “is worthy of his wages.” Let us not, then, attend only to the wages, but also to how he commanded; for he says, “The worker is worthy of his food.” So if anyone lives in luxury and at ease, he is not worthy; unless he is an ox treading out the grain, and draws the yoke, bearing up against the stifling heat and the thorns, and does not leave off until he has brought the crops into the barns, he is not worthy. So the supply of necessities must flow abundantly to teachers, so that they may not be wearied or faint, nor, being occupied with small things, deprive themselves of the great, but may work at spiritual things, taking no account of worldly ones. Such were the Levites: they had no concern for worldly things, because the laity were concerned to provide for them, and their revenues were fixed by law, such as the tithes, the offerings of gold, the first-fruits, the vows, and much else. But to them he rightly legislated these things, since they sought things present; but I say nothing more than that those who preside ought to have food and clothing, so that they may not be distracted toward these things. And what is “double honour”? Double that given to the widows, or that given to the deacons; or simply by “double” he means much honour. Let us not, then, consider only this, that he counted them worthy of double honour, but that he added, “who preside well.” And what is “preside well”? Let us hear Christ saying, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” So this is to preside well: to spare nothing for the sake of caring for them. “Especially,” he says, “those who labour in word and teaching.” Where now are those who say there is no need of word or teaching? when he so exhorts even Timothy, saying, “Practise these things, be in them”; and again, “Attend to reading, to exhortation; for by doing this you will save both yourself and your hearers.” And these above all others he wishes to be honoured, and he gives the reason, that they undergo much labour, he says. Naturally. For when one man neither keeps vigil nor takes thought, but simply sits by in security and freedom from care, while the other wears himself out taking thought and studying, especially when he is also unskilled in the learning from outside, how should he not above all enjoy honour, and before all others, as one who gives himself up to such labours? For he is answerable to countless tongues: so-and-so has blamed, another has praised, another has slandered his memory and his composition; and he needs much strength to bear these things. For it is a great thing, great for the building up of the church, and it contributes much, that those who preside should be apt to teach; and if this is absent, many things in the churches are lost. That is why with the other qualities, with being hospitable and gentle, with being beyond reproach, he numbers this too, saying “apt to teach.” For why else is he called a teacher? Yes, someone says, so that he may teach philosophy by his life. So these things are superfluous, and there is no need of teaching by words for progress. Then how does Paul say, “especially those who labour in word and teaching”? For when the discourse is about doctrines, what life has strength here? But what word does he mean? Not the pompous, nor that which has the elegance of the outside learning, but that which possesses great strength of the Spirit, full of understanding and wisdom. He needs, then, not ornament and diction but thoughts, however they are expressed, not composition but sense. … “Do not receive an accusation against a presbyter except on the evidence of two or three witnesses.” What? Against a younger man must one receive an accusation without witnesses? And against anyone at all, must not judgments always be made with exactness? What then does he say? Not in other cases either, he says, but especially against a presbyter. For he means here by “presbyter” not the rank but the age, since the young sin more easily than the old. And it is clear from this that Timothy had been entrusted thenceforth with a church, or rather with a whole nation, that of Asia; that is why he speaks to him about presbyters too. For since many things are judged from suspicion, there must be, he says, those who bear witness and convict him, according to the old law: “At the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established.” He did not say, “Do not condemn,” but, “Do not even receive an accusation,” do not bring him to judgment at all. What then, if … being examined by the trial, this too becomes clear. For with sins it is something to be content with to have even two witnesses, because they are done secretly and in hiding; so this is a sign of much testing. What then, if the sins are acknowledged, but he has no witnesses, only an evil suspicion? I said above, he says, “He must also have a good testimony from those outside.” “Rebuke those who sin before all, so that the rest also may have fear.” That is, do not cut off quickly, but examine everything with great exactness; but when you have learned it clearly, proceed vigorously, so that the others may be brought to their senses. For just as condemning lightly is harmful, so not proceeding against open sins gives the others a road to doing and daring the same things. He said “before all,” showing that it is not to be done lightly but with severity; for so the rest too will have fear. How then does Christ say, “Go, reprove him between you and him alone, if he sins against you”? … he allows him too to be reproved in the church. What then? Does not being reproved before all rather cause scandal? How? For when they know the sin but no longer the punishment, they are scandalized the more. For just as, when sinners remain unpunished, many go wrong, so, when they are punished, many do right. So God did too: he brought Pharaoh into the midst and punished him, and Nebuchadnezzar, and we see many others too, both by cities and by persons, who have paid the penalty. So he wishes all to have fear of the bishop, and sets him over all. Let us, then, love God with fear. For the law is not laid down for the righteous; but the many, who pursue virtue by compulsion and not by choice, reap great fruit from fear, often cutting off their own desires. For this reason let us hear about Gehenna, that we may reap much fruit from this threat and fear. For if, being about to cast sinners into it, he had not foretold its threat, many would have fallen into it. For if now, though fear … our souls, there are some who sin so easily as if it did not exist, if none of these things had been said or threatened, what terrible thing would we not have done? So, as I always say, Gehenna shows God's care no less than the kingdom does. For Gehenna works together with the kingdom, driving men toward it by fear. Let us not, then, think the thing a matter of harshness or cruelty, but of mercy and great love for humankind, and of care and affection toward us. If overthrow had not been threatened through Jonah, the overthrow would not have been prevented; if he had not said, “Nineveh shall be overthrown,” Nineveh would not have stood; if Gehenna had not been threatened, we would all have fallen into Gehenna; if fire had not been threatened, no one would have escaped the fire. He says the opposite of what he wishes to do, in order to do what he wishes. He does not wish the death of the sinner, and he speaks of the death of the sinner, so as not to cast him into death. He did not say it in word only, but shows it in deed too, that we may flee. And lest anyone think the thing only a threat, and not real, he made this clear from what has happened here. Or does not the flood seem to you a symbol of Gehenna, and the utter destruction by the rain of fire? “For as in the days of Noah,” he says, “they were marrying and giving in marriage, so it is now.” He foretold it then a long time before, and now he foretells it four hundred years or more beforehand; but no one pays attention; all think the thing myths, all a laughing matter; fear holds no one, no one weeps, no one beats his breast. The river of fire is boiling up, the flame is kindled, and we laugh and live in luxury and sin fearlessly. No one ever takes that day to mind, no one considers that present things pass away, that these are temporary, although the facts cry out every day and give voice. Untimely deaths, the changes of fortune that happen while we live, sicknesses and the other diseases, do not instruct us. And one may see changes not only in our bodies but in the very elements too; and in the stages of life we practise death every day, and in all things instability is stamped everywhere on events. Winter never remained, nor summer, nor spring, nor autumn; but all runs and flies off and flows. But what would you have me speak of? The flowers, the dignities, the kings who are now and tomorrow are not? The rich? The splendid buildings? Night and day? The sun? The moon? Does not she wane too? And does not the sun itself often fail, grow dark, is it not hidden by a cloud? Does anything that is seen remain for ever? Nothing; only the soul among the things in us, and this we neglect. Of the things that change we take much care as though they remained; of the one that remains we take no account, as though it were always passing away. So-and-so has great power: but until tomorrow, and after that he will perish; and this is clear from those who had greater power and now are nowhere to be seen. Life is a stage and a dream. For just as on the stage, when the curtain is drawn up, the varied scenes are dissolved, and when the ray of light appears all dreams fly away, so now too, when the consummation comes, both the common one and that of each person, everything is dissolved and vanishes. The tree you planted remains, and the house you are building, it too remains; but the craftsman and the farmer are carried off and perish. And though these things happen, not even so are we put to shame, but we prepare all these things as though immortal, living in luxury and self-indulgence. Hear what Solomon says, who had experience of present things in deed: “I built houses for myself,” he says, “I planted gardens and parks, and I had gold; I made myself men singers and women singers, flocks and herds.” For no one was so luxurious, no one so glorious, no one so wise, no one such a ruler; no one saw everything turn out so according to his mind. What then? He enjoyed none of these things; but what does he say after all these things? “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity”; not simply vanity, but to excess. Let us believe him, I beg you, who has come through experience; let us believe him, and lay hold of things where there is no longer vanity, where there is truth, where all is fixed and sure, where all is built on the rock, where there is no old age nor passing away, where all blooms, where all is at its prime, where nothing grows old or ages … God, not from fear of Gehenna but from desire of the kingdom. For what, tell me, is equal to seeing Christ? There is nothing. And what is equal to enjoying those good things? There is nothing; naturally. For “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what God has prepared,” he says, “for those who love him.” … of these. Do we not accuse them ten thousand times, saying that human life is nothing? Why do you strive for nothing? Why do you undergo labours for nothing? But you see splendid buildings, and the sight of them deceives you? Then look at once to heaven; look up from the stones and columns to that beauty, and you will see that these are the works of ants and gnats. Practise philosophy with this sight; go up to the things in heaven; from there learn what the splendid buildings are, and you will see that they are nothing, but toys of little children. Do you see how much thinner, how much lighter, how much purer and clearer the air is, the higher you ascend? There those who practise almsgiving have their houses, their tents. These things are dissolved at the resurrection, or rather before the resurrection; time comes on and destroys and obliterates and dissolves them; and before time, often in their very prime and bloom, an earthquake has brought them down, or a fire has ruined the whole. For not in the ages of men only, but in buildings too there are untimely deaths; and often those that have become rotten with time remain unmoved when the earth is shaken, while the gleaming, solid, newly built ones are shaken down and destroyed by thunder alone; and this, I think, by God's dispensation, so that we may not be proud of our buildings. If you wish not to be downcast in another way, come to the public buildings, which you share equally. For there is no house, none, however splendid, more splendid than the public buildings. Spend as much time there as you wish; those are yours, yours together with the others; they are common, not private. But these do not delight, he says. They do not delight, first through habit, second through covetousness. So the delight is covetousness, not beauty; so the pleasure is covetousness and wishing to make everything one's own. How long shall we be nailed down, and wallow like worms in the mire? God gave us the body from earth so that we might lead it too up to heaven, not so that through it we might drag the soul down to earth. It is earthy, but if I wish, it becomes heavenly. See with what honour he has honoured us, entrusting such a work to us. “I made,” he says, “earth and heaven; I give you too a work of creation: make the earth heaven,” for you can. “He who makes all things and transforms them” is said of God; but he has given this power to men too, as an affectionate father who paints wishes not only to do it himself but to bring his child to the same skill. “I made,” he says, “a beautiful body; I give you the making of the better thing: make a beautiful soul. I said, ‘Let the earth bring forth the green plant and every fruit-bearing tree’; say you too, ‘Let this earth bring forth its own fruit,’ and whatever you wish to produce will come forth. I make summer and mist … [the dragon whom I formed] to play with him,” that is, the devil. “Nor have I grudged you this power: you too play with him, if you wish; for you can bind him like a sparrow. I make the sun rise on the evil and the good; you too imitate me: share what is yours with the good and the evil. When insulted I bear it and do good to those who insult me; you too imitate me, for you can. I do good, not for a return; you too imitate me, and do not do good … into the heaven; you too kindle lights brighter than these, for you can; enlighten those in error; that kindness is greater than seeing the sun: to know me. You cannot make a man, but you can make him righteous and well-pleasing to God. I made the substance; you adorn the will. See how I love you, and have given you power in the greater things.” See, beloved, how we have been honoured; and yet some of the senseless and ungrateful say, “Why are we masters of our will?” All these things we have gone through, in which we can imitate God, if there were no free will it would not be possible for us to imitate. “I rule angels,” he says, “and you too, through the first-fruits. I sit on a royal throne, and you too sit with me through the first-fruits”; “he raised us up with him,” he says, “and seated us with him at the right hand of the Father.” The cherubim and the seraphim worship you, all the angelic power, principalities, authorities, thrones, dominions, through the first-fruits. Do not accuse the body, which enjoys such honour, before which even the bodiless powers tremble. But what shall I say? “Not by these things only do I show my love, but also by what I suffered. For your sake I left my Father and came to you who hated me and turned away from me and did not even wish to hear my name; I pursued and ran after you, to lay hold of you; I united you and joined you to myself. ‘Eat me,’ I said, ‘drink me.’ Both above I hold you, and below I am entwined with you. Is it not enough for you that I hold your first-fruits above? Does this not satisfy my longing? I came down below again; I am not simply mingled with you, but … so that the blending and mixing and union may come about. For things that are united stand within their own limits; but I am woven together with you. I no longer wish there to be anything between; I wish both to be one.” Knowing these things, then, and his great care for us, let us do everything that can show us not unworthy of his great gifts; which may we all obtain, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.