Homilies 1.1–2.4

I, Clement, a citizen of Rome, was able to live chastely even in my early youth, because from boyhood my mind turned the desire within me aside into despondency and labours. For a train of thought was with me, which had its beginning I know not whence, and kept reminding me frequently of death: that when I died I should not exist, and no one would ever make any mention of me, since boundless time carries all things of all men into oblivion; that I should be as one who does not exist, not knowing those who do not exist, neither knowing nor known, neither having come to be nor coming to be. And I asked: was the world ever made? And before it was made, what then was there? For if it always was, it will also always be; but if it came into being, it will also be dissolved. And after its dissolution, what will there be again, unless perhaps silence and oblivion? Or perhaps there will be something which it is not now possible to conceive.

Turning over these and similar thoughts unceasingly, I know not from what source, I was so painfully grieved that I grew pale and wasted away. And what was most dreadful: whenever I resolved to thrust the care away as useless, the suffering grew all the sharper. I was vexed at this, not knowing that I had in my thought a good companion, which became for me the cause of a blessed immortality, as I afterwards learned by experience and gave thanks to God, the Lord of all. For by the thought that at first afflicted me I was compelled to come to the inquiry into things and to the finding of them; and then I pitied those whom at the beginning, through ignorance, I had been inclined to call blessed.

Being, then, from boyhood in such reasonings, I frequented the schools of the philosophers for the sake of learning something certain. And I saw nothing else there than the overturning and establishing of doctrines, strife and contentiousness, the arts of syllogisms and the contrivance of premises. At one time the argument prevailed, let us say, that the soul is immortal; at another, that it is mortal. Whenever, then, the argument prevailed that it is immortal, I rejoiced; but whenever that it is mortal, I was grieved; and again I was yet more despondent because I could not settle either view firmly in my mind. Yet I perceived that opinions on these questions are taken as false or true according to those who defend them, and do not appear as they are in truth. Having at last come to see that conviction is formed not according to the questions defended but that opinions are carried off according to their defenders, I was still more dizzied in the matter. Therefore I groaned from the depth of my soul; for I was neither able to establish anything, nor could I shake off the care of such matters, though I wished to, as I have already said. For even when I often ordered myself to be quiet, somehow, I know not how, the reasoning about such things stole in upon me again with pleasure.

And again, being at a loss, I said to myself: “Why do I labour in vain, since the matter is plain? If after death I shall not exist, it is not fitting that I should grieve now while I exist. Let me keep the grieving, then, for that time when, not existing, I shall not grieve. But if I shall exist, what does grieving now gain me?” And immediately after this another thought came to me. I said: “Unless perhaps I am to suffer there something worse than what grieves me now, if I have not lived piously, and I shall be handed over, as some philosophers say, to Pyriphlegethon and Tartarus, like Sisyphus or Tityus or Ixion or Tantalus, and shall be punished in Hades for ever.” And again I answered myself, saying: “But these things are not so.” And again I said: “But what if they are? Since the matter is not clear,” I said, “it is safer for me rather to live piously. Yet how shall I be able, for the sake of righteousness and looking to an uncertain hope, to master the pleasures of the body? Nor have I been fully assured what is righteous and pleasing to God, nor do I know whether the soul is immortal or mortal; no sure argument is found, and I cannot rest from such reasonings.”

What, then, must I do? This: I will go to Egypt and make friends with the hierophants and prophets of the shrines; and I will seek out a magician, and when I have found him I will persuade him with much money to perform a calling-up of a soul, what is called necromancy, as though I were inquiring about some business. But the inquiry will be to learn whether the soul is immortal. And the soul's answer that it is immortal will not come to me from its speaking or my hearing, but only from its being seen, so that, seeing it with my own eyes, I may have a sufficient and adequate proof, from its mere appearing, that it exists; and no longer will the uncertain words of hearing be able to overturn what the eyes have themselves seen. Nevertheless I laid this very plan before a philosopher of my acquaintance, who advised me in many ways not to dare it. “For if the soul does not obey the magician,” he said, “you will live with an evil conscience, as one who has acted against the laws that forbid these practices; and if it does obey, then besides living with an evil conscience, I think the cause of piety, for whose sake you ventured it, will no longer prosper for you. For they say that the divine is hostile to those who trouble souls after their release from the body in death.” When I heard this I became more hesitant to attempt such a thing; yet I did not give up my first purpose, but was despondent, as one hindered in his impulse.

And not to recount such things to you at length: while I was in the midst of such reasonings and affairs, a report, beginning quietly in the reign of Tiberius Caesar, from the spring season, grew greater all the time and passed through the world like a truly good messenger of God, unable to keep silent and conceal the will of God. It grew greater and stronger on every occasion, saying that someone in Judea, beginning in the spring season, was proclaiming to the Jews the kingdom of the eternal God, which he said they would enjoy if they amended their way of life; and that, so that he might be believed to speak these things full of divinity, he was doing many wonderful signs and wonders by his command alone, as having received authority from God. For he makes the deaf hear and the blind see, makes the crippled walk, raises up the lame, drives away every disease, and puts every demon to flight; even scabby lepers, merely looking at him from a distance, go away healed; and the dead, when brought to him, are raised; and there is nothing he cannot do. And as time went on, through the greater number of those who arrived it grew much greater and firmer, no longer, I say, a report, but the truth of the matter. For now at last meetings were being held in various places for counsel and inquiry as to who he might be who had appeared, and what he meant to say.

And in that same year, at the autumn season, a certain man stood in a public place and cried out, saying: “Men of Rome, listen! The Son of God is now in Judea, promising eternal life to all who are willing, if they live according to the will of the Father who sent him. Therefore change your ways from the worse to the better, from things temporal to things eternal. Know that there is one God, the heavenly one, whose world you inhabit unrighteously before his righteous eyes. But if you change and live according to his will, you will be brought into another age and, becoming everlasting, will enjoy his unspeakable good things. But if you disobey, your souls after the dissolution of the body will be cast into the place of fire, where, punished everlastingly, they will repent to no profit. For the time for repentance is each one's present life.” When I heard this, I was grieved that no one out of such great crowds, having heard so great a message, said: “I will go to Judea to see whether this man speaks the truth in saying that the Son of God has come to dwell in Judea for the sake of a good and eternal hope, revealing the will of the Father who sent him.” For what they say he preaches is no small thing: for some, he affirms, their souls, being eternal, will enjoy eternal good things; for others, cast into unquenchable fire, they will be punished for ever.

Saying this about others, I also addressed myself, saying: “Why do I blame others, when I am guilty of the same negligence? But I will set out for Judea, after first settling my affairs.” And indeed, when I had so resolved, a long time of delay followed, since the affairs of life are hard to disentangle. At last, however, considering the nature of life, how it lies in wait for those who are in haste, entangling them in hope, and also how much time I had already had stolen from me while tossed about by hopes, and that we men die while thus kept busy, I left all my affairs as they were and set out for the sea. Having come to the harbour and put to sea, I was carried by contrary winds to Alexandria instead of Judea; and being detained there for lack of winds, I associated with the philosophers and told them of the report and the words of the one who had appeared in Rome. They answered: “Of one who appeared in Rome we know nothing; but about the one who has arisen in Judea, who is called by report the Son of God, we have heard from many who have come from there, and have learned of all the wonders he did as he spoke.”

When I said that I wished to meet one of those who had seen him, they immediately led me off, saying: “There is a man here who has not only seen him but is from that country, a Hebrew named Barnabas, who says that he himself is one of his disciples; he lodges somewhere here and readily tells the words of his promise to those who wish to hear.” So I went with them. And having come, I stood with the crowd that was present, listening to his words; and I perceived that he spoke the truth, not with dialectical art, but setting forth simply and without preparation the things he had heard and seen the Son of God, who had appeared, do and say. And he produced many witnesses of the wonders and words spoken of by him, even from the crowd that was standing there.

Since the crowds were well disposed toward what was said without artifice, the philosophers, who set out from worldly learning, began to laugh at him and mock him, jeering and disparaging him with boundless insolence, using their syllogisms as though they were great weapons. But he, thrusting aside their nonsense, did not enter into their crafty questioning, but went on undaunted with what he was saying. At one point someone asked him why the gnat was made so that, though it is very small and has six feet, it also has wings, while the elephant, the largest of animals, is wingless and has only four feet. But he, after the question, took up again the speech that had been interrupted, as though answering the question, resuming the discourse he had set before himself from the start, using at each interruption only this preface: “We have a command only to tell you the words and wonderful deeds of him who sent us; and instead of logical demonstration we offer you as witnesses many of those standing here among you, whose faces I remember, as living images, sufficient testimony. For the rest, it is in your power to yield or to disobey. But I will not cease telling you what is to your advantage, for to be silent is loss to me, but to disobey is harm to you. I could indeed give you the answers to your idle problems, if you asked out of love of the truth. But to tell you now the cause of the different making of the gnat and the elephant is not timely, when you do not know the God of all things.”

When he said this, they broke out as though by agreement into disorderly laughter, trying to silence him and put him at a loss, as a barbarian possessed by a demon. But I, seeing this, and seized, I know not how, with zeal, could no longer bear to keep silent in my pious anger, but cried out boldly, saying: “With good reason has God made his will incomprehensible to you, foreseeing that you would be unworthy, as is evident now to those who have discerning minds. For now that heralds of his will have been sent out, not professing the art of the grammarians but setting forth his will in simple and guileless words, so that anyone at all who hears may understand what is said, as of a will that does not wish, from some jealous disposition, to withhold itself from anyone, here you are, besides not understanding what is to your advantage, laughing, to your own harm, at the truth, which has lived among barbarians to your condemnation; and now that it has come to dwell among you, you will not receive it as a guest, because of your licentiousness and the plainness of its words, lest you be proved to be lovers of words but not truth-loving philosophers. How long will you be learning to speak, you who do not know how to speak? For many of your words are not worth one word. What then will your whole Greek multitude say, become as one soul, if there is to be a judgment, as this man says? ‘Why, O God, did you not proclaim your will to us?’ Will you not surely hear, if you are counted worthy of an answer, this: ‘I, knowing before the foundation of the world all the choices that would be made, met each one secretly beforehand according to what he deserved. And wishing to assure of this very thing those who have taken refuge with me, namely why I did not allow my will to be proclaimed publicly from the beginning in former generations, I have now, at the end of the age, sent out heralds of my will; and they are insulted and mocked by those who wish to gain nothing and who have earnestly refused my friendship.’ O great injustice! The heralds are in danger even of malice, and that from the very men who are called to salvation.

“For this wrong now done to my heralds would have been done from the beginning to all of them, if the unworthy had been called to salvation from the beginning. For what is now unjustly done by them serves as a defence of my just providence: that I rightly did not wish, from the beginning, to expose to insult publicly and to no profit the word worthy of honour, but chose that it be kept in silence as precious, not from those who were worthy from the beginning, to whom I also imparted it, but from these and such as these, who, as you see, are unworthy, who hate me and do not wish to love themselves.’ And now, stop laughing at this man; ask me about what he proclaims, or, if you ask, let whoever wishes answer. But like shameless dogs you bark, closing with disorderly noise the ears of those who wish to be saved, unrighteous and hateful to God, and diverting to unbelief the reasoning that saves. How will you be able to obtain pardon, when you insult the man who promises to tell you of the divinity of God, whom you ought, even if he spoke no truth at all, to have received for his good will toward you?”

As I was saying these things and more to the same effect, there arose a great commotion among the crowds. Some, as pitying Barnabas, took my side; but others, being foolish, gnashed their teeth at me fiercely. And since evening had now come on, I took Barnabas by the hand and led him, against his will, by force to my house, and there I made him stay, so that no one might lay hands on him. And after staying a few days and briefly instructing me a little in the true doctrine, as far as one could in a few days, he said that he was hastening to Judea for the sake of the festival of his religion, and because he wished for the future to be with his own countrymen.

It was clear to me that he had grown weary of staying. For when I said, “Only set out for me the words of the man who appeared, which you heard, and I, adorning them with my own speech, will proclaim the will of God; and then within a few days I will sail with you, for I greatly long to be in the land of Judea, and perhaps I will even live with you all the rest of my life,” he answered on hearing this: “If you wish to see our affairs and learn what is to your advantage, sail with me at once; or else I will tell you today the signs of my dwelling-place and of the persons you wish to find, so that you may come and visit us whenever you wish. For tomorrow I am going home.” Seeing him unmoved, I went with him to the harbour; and having learned from him the signs of the dwellings of which he spoke, I said to him: “If it were not that tomorrow I am to collect something owed me, I would sail with you at once; but I shall overtake you soon.” And having said this and commended him to the masters of the ship, I returned in sorrow, remembering my good and dear friend.

After staying some days, and not being able to recover the whole debt, I neglected the remainder for the sake of speed, since it was a hindrance, and I too sailed for Judea, and in fifteen days arrived at Caesarea Stratonis. When I had landed and was looking for lodging, I learned that a certain man called Peter, the most esteemed disciple of the man who had appeared in Judea and done signs and wonders, was to hold a discussion the next day with Simon, the Samaritan from Gitta. On hearing this I asked to be shown his lodging; and when I had learned it I stood at the gate. The people there asked who I was and where I came from. And behold, Barnabas came out, and as soon as he saw me he embraced me, rejoicing greatly and weeping. And taking me by the hand he led me in to where Peter was, saying to me: “This is Peter, whom I told you of as the greatest in the wisdom of God, and to whom I have spoken of you unceasingly. Go in as one expected, for I have told him truly of your good qualities and have also revealed your purpose, so that he too longs to see you. I therefore bring you to him with my own hands as a great gift.” And having said this he presented me, saying: “This is Clement, Peter.”

And the good Peter, as soon as he heard the name, ran to me and kissed me, and having made me sit down, said at once: “You did well to receive as your guest Barnabas, the herald of the truth, in honour of the God who is, nobly, not ashamed and not fearing the rage of the uneducated crowds. You will be blessed. For as you received the ambassador of the truth with all honour, so the truth itself will make you, who are a stranger, a citizen of its own city. And then you will rejoice greatly, because, having now lent a small favour, the goodwill of kind words, you will be heir of everlasting good things that cannot be taken away. And do not trouble to tell me of your character, for the truthful Barnabas has told us everything about you, mentioning you kindly almost every day. And to tell you briefly, as to a true friend, what lies before us: if nothing hinders you, travel with us, sharing in the word of truth, which I intend to preach from city to city as far as Rome itself. And you too, say whatever you wish.”

I set out my purpose from the beginning, and how I had been exhausted by insoluble inquiries, and everything that I made known to you at the beginning, so that I need not write the same things again. And I said: “I am ready to travel with you, for this, I know not how, I wish with joy. But first I wish to be fully assured about the truth, so that I may know whether the soul is mortal, or whether it is immortal and, being everlasting, is to be judged for what it has done here; and, if so, what it is that is righteous and pleasing to God; and whether the world came into being, and why it came into being; and whether it will not be dissolved, or whether it will be dissolved; and whether it will be better, or will not exist at all.” And, not to speak in detail, I said that I wished to learn these things and what follows from them. And he answered: “I will give you, Clement, the knowledge of the things that are, in brief; and hear it now at once.”

“The will of God has become obscure in many ways. First there is bad upbringing, evil companionship, dreadful habit, unworthy conversation, wrong prejudgment, and through these, error; then fearlessness, unbelief, sexual immorality, love of money, vainglory, and countless other evils of the kind. Like a great mass of smoke filling the world, which is like one house, these have darkened the sight of the men who dwell within, and have not allowed them to look up and perceive God the Creator from his handiwork and to learn what pleases him. Therefore those within who love the truth must cry out from their breasts and call for help, with truth-loving reason, so that someone who is inside the house full of smoke may come near and open the door, so that the light of the sun outside may be let into the house, and the smoke of the fire within may be driven out.”

“The helper, then, I call the true Prophet, who alone is able to enlighten the souls of men, so that we may be able to see with our own eyes the way of eternal salvation. Otherwise it is impossible, as you yourself know, having said a little earlier that every thesis is overturned and established, and the same thesis is held true or false according to the ability of its defender, so that theses no longer appear as they are, but take from their defenders the appearance of being or not being true or false. For this reason the whole matter of piety needed a true prophet, to tell us things as they are, and how we must believe about all things. So one must first test the prophet by every prophetic examination and, having recognized him as true, thereafter believe him in everything, and no longer examine each thing he says one by one, but accept his words as certain, received seemingly by faith but in fact by a sure judgment. For by one proof at the beginning and a precise examination on every side, the whole has been received by right reasoning. Therefore before all things one must seek the true Prophet, because without him it is impossible for men to have anything certain.”

And so he gave me rest, setting out for me who he is and how he is found; and he truly made him discoverable to me, showing to my ears, by his discourse on the Prophet, the truth more plainly than things seen with the eyes, so that I was astonished and wondered how no one perceives what all men seek though it lies before them. However, having written down the discourse about the Prophet at his command, he had the volume sent to you from Caesarea Stratonis, saying that he had instructions from you to write and send you year by year his discourses and acts. Still, on that one first day, while only making a beginning about the Prophet of the truth, he gave me full assurance about everything. And then he said: “Observe from now on the discussions I hold with those who oppose us; and even if I should come off worse, I am not afraid that you will waver about the truth handed on to you, knowing well that it is I who seemed to be worsted, not the doctrine handed on to us through the Prophet. But I hope not to come off worse even in the argument of examination, before those who have understanding, I mean lovers of truth, who can discern which words are persuasive, artful, and delightful, and which are plain and simple, trusting only in the truth that comes through them.”

When he had said this, I answered: “Already I give thanks to God; for as I wished to be fully assured, so he has granted me. But be so free from care about me that I will never waver; so much so that even if you yourself should ever wish to move me from the prophetic doctrine, you would not be able, so well do I know what I have received. And do not think that I promise you something great in this very thing, that I will never waver. For neither I nor any man who has heard the discourse about the Prophet will ever be able to waver concerning the true doctrine, once he has heard and understood what the truth of the prophetic promise is. Take courage, then, in the doctrine willed by God, for every art of wickedness has been conquered. Against prophecy neither the arts of words nor the devices of sophisms can do anything, nor syllogisms, nor any other contrivance, if indeed he who has heard the true Prophet truly longs for the truth and does not, under pretext of truth, look to something else. So, my lord Peter, do not be despondent, as though you had given the greatest good to one without perception. You have given it to one who perceives the grace, and who cannot be led astray from the truth that has been given. For I know that it is one of the things a man desires, both to receive quickly and not to obtain slowly. I know, then, not to despise, because of its speed, what has been given me, which is incomparable and alone secure.”

When I had said this, Peter said: “I give thanks to God both for your salvation and for my own enjoyment. For I truly rejoice, knowing that you have recognized how great prophecy is. Since, then, as you said, even if I myself should ever wish (which God forbid) to move you to another doctrine, I should not be able to persuade you, begin from tomorrow on to be present with me in the discussions with our opponents. And tomorrow I am to meet Simon the magician.” Having said this, he took food by himself, and told me also to take food. And after blessing the food and giving thanks, when he had eaten his fill, he explained to me the reason for this very thing, and added: “May God grant you to become like me in all things, and, when you have been baptized, to share the same table with me.” Having said this he bade me rest; for the nature of the body was now demanding sleep.

On the following day, then, I, Clement, woke while it was still night, and learned that Peter was awake and conversing about the worship of God with those who were with him. They were sixteen, and I have decided to set down their names too, as I learned each of them in the course of time, so that you may know who they were. First of them was Zacchaeus, formerly a tax collector, and Sophonias his brother; Joseph and his foster-brother Michaeas; also Thomas and Eliezer, the twins; and Aeneas and Lazarus, the priests; and further Elisha, and Benjamin the son of Saphra; likewise Rubelus and Zacharias, the builders; Ananias and Haggai of Jamnia; and also Nicetes and Aquila, the companions. However, I went in, greeted them, and sat down, as he bade me.

He broke off the discourse in hand and, as though excusing himself, assured me why he had not woken me to hear the discussion: he gave as the reason the upset from the voyage, and wishing that to pass off, he had let me rest. “For whenever the soul is taken up with what the body lacks, it does not receive as it deserves the teaching offered to it. For this reason I do not wish to converse with those who are deeply grieved by some misfortune, or immoderately angry, or turned to the madness of love, or pushed about by the cares of life, or troubled by any other passions; for the soul, falling under these, as I said, and suffering with the suffering body, has its own understanding taken up as well.”

“And let no one say, ‘Then we must not offer consolation and admonition to those who do wrong.’ I say: if one can accomplish something, let him offer it; if not, let him yield to the occasion. For I know that everything has its own time. Therefore we must give people the words that strengthen the soul before the affliction comes, so that if anything evil should come upon them, the mind, armed beforehand with right reason, may be able to endure what is brought upon it. For then the mind knows how to join with him who has helped it by good counsel, even at the height of the battle.”

“However, Clement, I have learned that in Alexandria Barnabas set out for you fully the discourse about prophecy; is it not so?” And I answered: “Yes, and very well.” And Peter said: “Then is it not necessary that the present time, which could serve us for other discourses that you do not know, should not be spent on those that you know?” I said: “You speak rightly, Peter. But grant me this, since I have decided to be with you always: to explain continually the discourse about the Prophet, to one who hears it gladly; for without it, as I learned from Barnabas, it is impossible to learn the truth.”