where Paul is, and Peter, and the whole company of the saints. Consider
how he shall arise, with what glory and splendor. Consider that by
mourning and lamenting thou canst not alter the event which has
occurred, and thou wilt in the end injure thyself. Consider whom you
imitate by so doing, and shun this companionship in sin. For whom do you
imitate and emulate? The unbelieving, those who have no hope; as Paul
has said--"That ye sorrow not, even as others who have no hope." And
observe how carefully he expresses himself; for he does not say, Those
who have not the hope of a resurrection, but simply, Those who have no
hope. He that has no hope of a future retribution has no hope at all,
nor does he know that there is a God, nor that God exercises a
providential care over present occurrences, nor that divine justice
looks on all things. But he that is thus ignorant and inconsiderate is
more unwise than a beast, and separates his soul from all good; for he
that does not expect to render an account of his deeds cuts himself
loose from all virtue, and attaches himself to all vice. Considering
these things, therefore, and reflecting on the folly and stupidity of
the heathen, whose associates we become by our lamentations for the
dead, let us avoid this conformity to them. For the apostle mentions
them for this very purpose, that by considering the dishonor into which
thou fallest, thou mightest recover thyself from this conformity, and
return to thy proper dignity.
And not only here, but everywhere and frequently, the blest Paul does
the same. For when he would dissuade from sin, he shows with whom we
become associated by our sins, that, being touched by the character of
the persons, thou shouldest avoid such companionship. To the
Thessalonians, accordingly, he says, Let every one "possess his vessel
in sanctification and honor, not in the lust of concupiscence, even as
the Gentiles which know not God." And again--"Walk not as the other
Gentiles in the vanity of their mind." Thus also here--"I would not have
you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye
sorrow not even as others who have no hope." For it is not the nature of
things, but our own disposition, which makes us grieve; not the death of
the departed, but the weakness of those who mourn.
We ought, therefore, to thank God not only for the resurrection, but
also for the hope of it; which can comfort the afflicted soul, and bid
us be of good cheer concerning the departed, for they will again rise
and be with us. If we must have anguish, we should mourn and lament over
those who are living in sin, not over those who have died righteously.
Thus did Paul; for he says to the Corinthians--"Lest when I come to you
God shall humble me among you and that I shall bewail many." He was not
speaking of those who had died, but of those who had sinned and had not
repented of the lasciviousness and uncleanness which they had committed;
over these it was proper to mourn. So likewise another writer
admonishes, saying--"Weep over the dead, for the light has failed; and
weep over the fool, for understanding has failed" (Eccles. xxii., 10).
Weep a little for the dead; for he has gone to his rest; but the fool's
life is a greater calamity than death. And surely if one devoid of
understanding is always a proper object of lamentation, much more he
that is devoid of righteousness and that has fallen from hope toward
God. These, then, let us bewail; for such bewailing may be useful. For
often while lamenting these, we amend our own faults; but to bewail the
departed is senseless and hurtful. Let us not, then, reverse the order,
but bewail only sin; and all other things, whether poverty, or sickness,
or untimely death, or calumny, or false accusation, or whatever human
evil befalls us, let us resolutely bear them all. For these calamities,
if we are watchful, will be the occasions of adding to our crowns.
But how is it possible, you ask, that a bereaved person, being a man,
should not grieve? On the contrary, I ask, how is it that being a man he
should grieve, since he is honored with reason and with hopes of future
good? Who is there, you ask again, that has not been subdued by this
weakness? Many, I reply, and in many places, both among us and among
those who have died before us. Job, for instance; the whole circle of
his children being taken away, hear what he says--"The Lord gave; the
Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." A wonderful
saying, even when merely heard; but if you examine it closely, your
wonder will greatly increase.
For consider; Satan did not take merely half and leave half, or take the
larger number and leave the rest; but he gathered all the fruit, and yet
did not prevail in uprooting the tree; he covered the whole sea with
waves, and yet did not overwhelm the bark; he despoiled the tower of its
strength, and yet could not batter it down. Job stood firm, tho assailed
from every quarter; showers of arrows fell, but they did not wound him.
Consider how great a thing it was, to see so many children perish. Was
it not enough to pierce him to the quick that they should all be
snatched away?--altogether and in one day; in the flower of life;
having shown so much virtue; expiring as by a stroke of vengeance; that
after so many sorrows this last should be inflicted; that the father was
fond of them, and that the deceased were worthy of his affection. When a
man loses vicious children, he does indeed suffer grief, but not intense
grief; for the wickedness of the departed does not allow the sorrow to
be poignant. But when children are virtuous, an abiding wound is
inflicted, the remembrance is indelible, the calamity is inconsolable;
there is a double sting, from nature, and from the virtuous character of
the departed.
That Job's children were virtuous, appears from the fact that their
father was particularly solicitous in regard to them, and rising up
offered sacrifices in their behalf, fearing lest they might have
committed secret sins; and no consideration was more important in his
esteem than this. Not only the virtue of the children is thus shown, but
also the affectionate spirit of the father. Since, therefore, the father
was so affectionate, showing not only a love for them which proceeded
from nature, but that also which came from their piety, and since the
departed were thus virtuous, the anguish had a threefold intensity.
Still further; when children are torn away separately, the suffering has
some consolation; for those that are left alleviate the sorrow over the
departed; but when the whole circle is gone, to what one of all his
numerous children can the childless man now look?
Besides these causes of sorrow, there was a fifth stroke. What was that?
That they were all snatched away at once. For if in the case of those
who die after three or five days of sickness, the women and all the
relatives bewail this most of all, that the deceased was taken away from
their sight speedily and suddenly, much more might he have been
distrest, when thus deprived of all, not in three days, or two, or one,
but in one hour! For a calamity long contemplated, even if it be hard to
bear, may fall more lightly through this anticipation; but that which
happens contrary to expectation and suddenly is intolerable.
Would you hear of a sixth stroke? He lost them all in the very flower of
their age. You know how very overwhelming are untimely bereavements, and
productive of grief on many scores. The instance we are contemplating
was not only untimely, but also violent; so that here was a seventh
stroke. For their father did not see them expire on a bed, but they are
all overwhelmed by the falling habitation. Consider then; a man was
digging in that pile of ruins, and now he drew up a stone, and now a
limb of a deceased one; he saw a hand still holding a cup, and another
right hand placed on the table, and the mutilated form of a body, the
nose torn away, the head crusht, the eyes put out, the brain scattered,
the whole frame marred, and the variety of wounds not permitting the
father to recognize the beloved countenances. You suffer emotions and
shed tears at merely hearing of these things: what must he have endured
at the sight of them? For if we, so long after the event, can not bear
to hear of this tragedy, tho it was another man's calamity, what an
adamant was he to look on these things, and contemplate them, not as
another's, but his own afflictions! He did not give way to dejection,
nor ask, "What does this mean? Is this the recompense for my kindness?
Was it for this that I opened my house, that I might see it made the
grave of my children? Did I for this exhibit every parental virtue, that
they should endure such a death?" No such things did he speak, or even
think; but steadily bore all, tho bereaved of them after bestowing on
them so much care. For as an accomplished statuary framing golden images
adorns them with great care, so he sought properly to mold and adorn
their souls. And as a husbandman assiduously waters his palm-trees, or
olives, inclosing them and cultivating them in every suitable way; so he
perpetually sought to enrich each one's soul, as a fruitful olive, with
increasing virtue. But he saw the trees overthrown by the assault of the
evil spirit, and exposed on the earth, and enduring that miserable kind
of death; yet he uttered no reviling word, but rather blest God, thus
giving a deadly blow to the devil.
Should you say that Job had many sons, but that others have frequently
lost their only sons, and that his cause of sorrow was not equal to
theirs, you say well; but I reply, that Job's cause of sorrow was not
only equal, but far greater. For of what advantage was it to him that he
had many children? It was a severer calamity and a more bitter grief to
receive the wound in many bodies.
Still, if you wish to see another holy man having an only son, and
showing the same and even greater fortitude, call to mind the patriarch
Abraham, who did not indeed see Isaac die, but, what was much more
painful, was himself commanded to slay him, and did not question the
command, nor repine at it, nor say, "Is it for this thou hast made me a
father, that thou shouldest make me the slayer of my son? Better it
would have been not to give him at all, than having given him thus to
take him away. And if thou choosest to take him, why dost thou command
me to slay him and to pollute my right hand? Didst thou not promise me
that from this son thou wouldst fill the earth with my descendants? How
wilt thou give the fruits, then, if thou pluck up the root? How dost
thou promise me a posterity, and yet order me to slay my son? Who ever
saw such things, or heard of the like? I am deceived; I have been
deluded." No such thing did he say, or even think; he said nothing
against the command, he did not ask the reasons; but hearing the
Word--"Take thy son, thine only son whom thou lovest, and carry him up
to one of the mountains which I shall show thee," he complied so readily
as even to do more than was commanded. For he concealed the matter from
his wife, and he left the servants at the foot of the Mount in ignorance
of what was to be done, and ascended, taking only the victim. Thus not
unwillingly, but with promptness, he obeyed the command. Think now what
it was, to be conversing alone with his son, apart from all others, when
the affections are the more fervently excited, and attachment becomes
stronger; and this not for one, or two, but for several days. To obey
the command speedily would have been wonderful; but not so wonderful as,
while his heart was burdened and agitated for many days, to avoid
indulging in human tenderness toward his son. On this account God
appointed for him a more extended arena, and a longer racecourse, that
thou mightest the more carefully observe his combatant. A combatant he
was indeed, contending not against a man, but against the force of
nature. What language can describe his fortitude? He brought forward his
son, bound him, placed him on the wood, seized the sacrificial knife,
was just on the point of dealing the stroke. In what manner to express
myself properly, I know not; he only would know, who did these things.
For no language can describe how it happened that his hand did not
become torpid, that the strength of his nerves did not relax, that the
affecting sight of his son did not overpower him.
It is proper here, too, to admire Isaac. For as the one obeyed God, so
did the other obey his father; and as the one, at God's bidding him to
sacrifice, did not demand an account of the matter, so the other, when
his father was binding him and leading him to the altar, did not say,
"Why art thou doing this?"--but surrendered himself to his father's
hand. And then was to be seen a man uniting in his own person the father
and the sacrificing priest; and a sacrifice offered without blood, a
whole burnt offering without fire, an altar representing a type of death
and the resurrection. For he both sacrificed his son and he did not
sacrifice him. He did not sacrifice him with his hand, but in his
purpose. For God gave the command, not through desire to see the flowing
of the blood, but to give you a specimen of steady purpose, to make
known throughout the world this worthy man, and to instruct all in
coming time that it is necessary to prefer the command of God before
children and nature, before all things, and even life itself. And so
Abraham descended from the Mount, bringing alive the martyr Isaac. How
can we be pardoned then, tell me, or what apology can we have, if we see
that noble man obeying God with so much promptness and submitting to Him
in all things, and yet we murmur at His dispensations? Tell me not of
grief, nor of the intolerable nature of your calamity; rather consider
how in the midst of bitter sorrow you may yet rise superior to it. That
which was commanded to Abraham was enough to stagger his reason, to
throw him into perplexity, and to undermine his faith in the past. For
who would not have then thought that the promise which had been made him
of a numerous posterity was all a deception? But not so Abraham. And not
less ought we to admire Job's wisdom in calamity; and particularly, that
after so much virtue, after his alms and various acts of kindness to
men, and tho aware of no wrong either in himself or his children, yet
experiencing so much affliction, affliction so singular, such as had
never happened even to the most desperately wicked, still he was not
affected by it as most men would have been, nor did he regard his virtue
as profitless, nor form any ill-advised opinion concerning the past.
By these two examples, then, we ought not only to admire virtue, but to
emulate and imitate it. And let no one say these were wonderful men.
True, they were wonderful and great men. But we are now required to have
more wisdom than they, and than all who lived under the Old Testament.
For "except your righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees,
ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." Gathering wisdom, then,
from all quarters, and considering what we are told concerning a
resurrection and concerning these holy men, let us frequently recite it
to our souls, not only when we are actually in sorrow, but also while we
are free from distress. For I have now addrest you on this subject, tho
no one is in particular affliction, that when we shall fall into any
such calamity, we may, from the remembrance of what has been said,
obtain requisite consolation. As soldiers, even in peace, perform
warlike exercises, so that when actually called to battle and the
occasion makes a demand for skill, they may avail themselves of the art
which they have cultivated in peace; so let us, in time of peace,
furnish ourselves with weapons and remedies, that whenever there shall
burst on us a war of unreasonable passions, or grief, or pain, or any
such thing, we may, well armed and secure on all sides, repel the
assaults of the evil one with all skill, and wall ourselves round with
right contemplations, with the declarations of God, with the examples of
good men, and with every possible defense. For so shall we be able to
pass the present life with happiness, and to attain to the kingdom of
heaven, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion, together
with the Father and the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.
AUGUSTINE
THE RECOVERY OF SIGHT BY THE BLIND
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
Saint Augustine (Aurelius Augustinus), one of the greatest theological
fathers of the Church, was born at Tagaste, 354 A.D., and became devoted
to the study of Cicero. As a Manichean he occasioned great anxiety to
his mother Monica. Eventually embracing Christianity, he was baptized by
Ambrose of Milan (387), on which occasion, tradition says, the Te Deum
was composed by himself and his baptizer. Appointed to the See of Hippo
in 395, he threw himself into the conflict against heresy and schism,
his principal opponents being the Donatists and Pelagians. His sermons,
powerful as they are, disappoint the modern reader by their fantastic
and allegorical interpretation of Scripture, but his "Confessions," in
which he details the history of his early life and conversion, present a
wonderful picture of personal experience. He is styled by Harnack "the
first modern man." He died at Hippo in 430.
AUGUSTINE
354-430
THE RECOVERY OF SIGHT BY THE BLIND
_Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou son of David._--Matt. xx., 30.
I. Ye know, holy brethren, full well as we do, that our Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ is the physician of our eternal health; and that to this
end we task the weakness of our natures, that our weakness might not
last forever. For He assumed a mortal body, wherein to kill death. And,
"though He was crucified through weakness," as the apostle saith, yet He
"liveth by the power of God." They are the words, too, of the same
apostle: "He dieth no more, death hath no more dominion over Him." These
things, I say, are well known to your faith. And there is also this
which follows from them, that we should know that all the miracles which
He did on the body avail to our instruction, that we may from them
perceive that which is not to pass away, nor to have any end. He
restored to the blind those eyes which death was sure some time to
close; He raised Lazarus to life who was to die again. And whatever He
did for the health of bodies, He did it not to this end that they should
be forever; whereas, at the last, He will give eternal health even to
the body itself. But because those things which were not seen were not
believed; by means of those temporal things which were seen, He built up
faith in those things which were not seen.
II. Let no one then, brethren, say that our Lord Jesus Christ doeth not
those things now, and on this account prefer the former to the present
ages of the Church. In a certain place, indeed, the same Lord prefers
those who do not see and yet believe to them who see and therefore
believe. For even at that time so irresolute was the infirmity of His
disciples that they thought that He whom they saw to have risen again
must be handled, in order that they might believe. It was not enough for
their eyes that they had seen Him, unless their hands also were applied
to His limbs, and the scars of His recent wounds were touched: that this
disciple, who was in doubt, might cry suddenly when he had touched and
recognized the scars, "My Lord and my God." The scars manifested Him who
had healed all wounds in others. Could not the Lord have risen again
without scars? Yes, but He knew the wounds which were in the hearts of
His disciples, and to heal them He had preserved the scars on His own
body. And what said the Lord to him who now confest and said, "My lord,
and my God?" "Because thou hast seen," He said, "thou hast believed;
blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed." Of whom
spake He, brethren, but of us? Not that He spoke only of us, but of
those also who shall come after us. For a little while when He had
departed from the sight of men, that faith might be established in their
hearts, whosoever believed, believed tho they saw Him not, and great has
been the merit of their faith; for the procuring of which faith they
brought only the movement of a pious heart, and not the touching of
their hands.
III. These things, then, the Lord did to invite us to the faith. This
faith reigneth now in the Church, which is spread throughout the whole
world. And now, He worketh greater cures, on account of which He
disdained not then to exhibit those lesser ones. For as the soul is
better than the body, so is the saving health of the soul better than
the health of the body. The blind body doth not now open its eyes by a
miracle of the Lord, but the blinded heart openeth its eyes to the word
of the Lord. The mortal corpse doth not now rise again, but the soul
doth rise again which lay dead in a living body. The deaf ears of the
body are not now opened; but how many have the ears of their heart
closed, which yet fly open at the penetrating word of God, so that they
believe who did not believe, and they live well who did live evilly, and
they obey who did not obey; and we say, "such a man is become a
believer," and we wonder when we hear of them whom once we had known as
hardened. Why, then, dost thou marvel at one who now believes, who is
living innocently, and serving God, but because thou dost behold him
seeing, whom thou hadst known to be blind; dost behold him living whom
thou hast known to be dead; dost behold him hearing whom thou hadst
known to be deaf? For consider that there are those who are dead in
another than the ordinary sense, of whom the Lord spoke to a certain man
who delayed to follow the Lord, because he wished to bury his father;
"Let the dead," said He, "bury their dead." Surely these dead buriers
are not dead in body; for if this were so, they could not bury dead
bodies. Yet doth He call them dead; where but in the soul within? For as
we may often see in a household, itself sound and well, the master of
the same house lying dead; so in a sound body do many carry a dead soul
within; and these the apostle arouses thus, "Awake, thou that sleepest,
and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." It is the
same who giveth sight to the blind that awakeneth the dead. For it is
with His voice that the cry is made by the apostle to the dead. "Awake
thou that sleepest." And the blind will be enlightened with light, when
he shall have risen again. And how many deaf men did the Lord see before
His eyes, when He said, "He that hath ears to hear let him hear." For
who was standing before Him without his bodily ears? What other ears,
then, did He seek for, but those of the inner man?