ORDINATION TO THE PRIESTHOOD BY FLAVIAN—INAUGURAL
DISCOURSE IN THE CATHEDRAL—HOMILIES AGAINST THE
ARIANS—ANIMADVERSIONS ON THE CHARIOT RACES. A.D. 386.
Chrysostom had used the office of a deacon well. The lofty tone of
Christian piety, the boldness, the ability, the command of language
manifested in his writings, marked him out as eminently qualified for
a preacher. His treatises, indeed, are distinguished by a vehemence
and energy which belong more to the fervour of the orator than to the
calmness of the writer. No doubt also men had not forgotten the talent
for speaking which he had displayed when he began to practise, nearly
twenty years before, as a lawyer. The Bishop Flavian ordained him a
priest in 386, and immediately appointed him to be one of the most
frequent preachers in the church. The bishop of a see like Antioch
at that time rather resembled the rector of a large town parish than
the bishop of modern times. He resided in Antioch, and discharged the
duties of a chief pastor, assisted by his staff of priests and deacons.
Where the whole Christian population amounted to not more than 100,000
souls, as in Antioch,[206] that division into distinct districts,
such as were formed in Alexandria,[207] Rome, and Constantinople,
with separate churches, served by members of the central staff in
rotation, or by pastors especially appropriated to them, does not seem
to have been made. Chrysostom officiated and preached in the great
church, where the bishop also officiated. The less learned and less
able priests were appointed to the less responsible duties of visiting
the sick and the poor, and administering the sacraments. The vocation
of Chrysostom, however, was especially that of a teacher. It will be
readily acknowledged how difficult, how delicate an office preaching
was, in an age when Christianity and Paganism were still existing side
by side, and when the opinions of many men were floating in suspense
between the old faith and the new, and were liable to be distracted
from a firm hold upon the truth by Judaism and heresies of every shade.
Either on the occasion of his ordination, or very soon after it,
Chrysostom preached an inaugural discourse, in the presence of the
bishop. It is distinguished by that flowery and exaggerated kind of
rhetoric which he occasionally displays in all its native oriental
luxuriance, and which is due to the school in which he was brought up,
rather than to the man. On such a public and formal occasion he appears
less as the Christian teacher than as the scholar of Libanius the
Rhetorician. His self-disparagement at the opening of his discourse,
and his flattering encomiums on Flavian and Meletius at the close,
would to modern, certainly at least to English, ears sound intolerably
affected. No doubt, however, they were acceptable to the taste of
his audience at Antioch; and, indeed, the whole discourse contains
nothing more overstrained or ornate than is to be found in some of
the most celebrated performances of the great French preachers in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
A few paraphrases will suffice to illustrate the character of his
discourse.
“He could scarcely believe what had befallen him, that he, an
insignificant and abject youth,[208] should find himself elevated to
such a height of dignity. The spectacle of so vast a multitude hanging
in expectation on his lips quite unnerved him, and would have dried up
fountains of eloquence, had he possessed such. How, then, could he hope
that his little trickling stream of words would not fail, and that the
feeble thoughts which he had put together with so much labour would not
vanish from his mind?
“Wherefore he besought them to pray earnestly that he might be inspired
with courage to open his mouth boldly in this hitherto unattempted
work.[209] He wished to offer the first-fruits of his speech in praise
to God. As the tiller of the ground gave of his wheat, grapes, or
olives, so he would fain make an offering in kind; he would ‘praise the
name of God with a song, and magnify it with thanksgiving.’ But the
consciousness of sin made him shrink from the task, for as in a wreath
not only must the flowers be clean, but also the hands which wove it,
so in sacred hymns not only must the words be holy, but also the soul
of him who composed them. The words of the wise man who said, ‘praise
is not becoming in the mouth of a sinner,’[210] sealed up his lips, and
when David invited all creation, animate and inanimate, visible and
invisible, to ‘praise the Lord of Heaven, to praise him in the height,’
he did not include the sinner in the invitation. He would rather
therefore dilate on the merits of some of his fellow-men who were
worthier than himself. The mention of their Christian virtues would be
an indirect way, legitimate for a sinner, of paying glory and honour
to God himself. And to whom should he address his praises first but
to their bishop, whom he might call the teacher of their country, and
through their country of the world at large? To enter fully, however,
into his manifold virtues was to dive into so deep a sea that he
feared he should lose himself in its profundities. To do justice to the
task would require an inspired and apostolic tongue. He must confine
himself to a few points. Although reared in the midst of affluence,
Flavian had surmounted the difficulties which impeded the entrance of
a rich man into the kingdom of heaven. He had been distinguished from
youth by perfect temperance and control over the bodily appetites,
by contempt of luxury and a costly table. Though untimely deprived
of parental care, and exposed to the temptations incident to wealth,
youth, and good birth, yet had he triumphed over them all. He had
assiduously cultivated his mind, and had put the bridle of fasting on
his body sufficient to curb excess, without impairing its strength and
usefulness; and though he had now glided into the haven of a calm old
age, yet he did not relax the severity of this personal discipline.
The death of their beloved father Meletius had caused great distress
and perplexity to the Church, but the appearance of his successor had
dispersed it, as clouds vanished before the sun. When Flavian mounted
the episcopal throne, Meletius himself seemed to have risen from his
tomb.”
All that can be collected from history respecting Flavian’s character
confirms and justifies these eulogiums, though English taste would
prefer them to have been uttered after his death rather than in his
actual presence. Chrysostom concludes by saying that he had prolonged
his address beyond the bounds which became his position, but the
flowery field of praise had tempted him to linger. “He would conclude
his task by asking their prayers: prayers that their common mother
the Church might remain undisturbed and steadfast, and that the life
of their father, teacher, spiritual shepherd, and pilot, might be
prolonged; prayers finally that he, the preacher, might be strengthened
to bear the yoke which was laid upon him, might in the great day
restore safely the deposit which his Master had committed to his trust,
and obtain mercy for his sins through the grace and goodness of the
Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory, and power, and worship for ever
and ever.”
We now enter on a period of ten years, during which Chrysostom
constantly resided in Antioch, and was occupied in the almost incessant
labour of preaching. The main bulk of those voluminous works which have
been preserved to our times belongs to this period; yet there can be
no doubt that, numerous as are the extant works, they represent but a
fraction of the discourses which he actually delivered. For we know,
on his own authority, that he frequently preached twice, occasionally
oftener, in the course of a week.[211]
It does not fall within the scope of this essay to determine how many
of the homilies which we possess were delivered in each year, or to
enter into a critical examination of every set. But an attempt will be
made to extract from them whatever seems to throw light upon the life
and times of their author, upon events in which he played a conspicuous
part, or which were of great public importance; whatever also
illustrates the special condition of the Church,—her general practice,
her merits and defects, the dangers and difficulties with which, from
dissension within or heresy without, she had at this era to contend.
The field of subjects on which the preacher was called to exercise
his powers was varied and extensive. Christianity was imperilled by
corruption of morals and corruption of faith. Not the laity only,
but the clergy also, at least in the great towns, had become deeply
infected by the prevalent follies and vices of the age. Again,
between the orthodox Christian and the Pagan every variety of heresy
intervened. The Arian, the Manichæan, the Marcionite, the Sabellian,
the Jew,—all were, so to say, touching and fraying the edge of pure
Christianity; the danger was, lest they should gradually so wear it
away as to injure the very vitals of the faith. Such were the evils
which Chrysostom bent his energies to redress, such the enemies whom he
manfully endeavoured to repel. He is alternately the champion of a pure
morality and of a sound faith.
Among the discourses which belong to the first year of his priesthood
falls one delivered in commemoration of Bishop Meletius, the
predecessor of Flavian.[212] He had died at Constantinople about
the end of May A.D. 381, and Chrysostom in the commencement of his
homily remarks, that five years had now elapsed since the bishop had
taken his journey to the “Saviour of his longings.” The tone of the
discourse illustrates a characteristic of the times; a passionate
devotion to the memory of departed saints which was rapidly passing
into actual adoration; a subject on which more will be said hereafter.
The shrine which contained the reliques of Meletius was placed in the
sight of the preacher and the congregation, who swarmed round it like
bees.[213] When Chrysostom looked at the great multitude assembled
he congratulated the holy Meletius on enjoying such honour after his
death, and he congratulated the people also on the endurance of their
affection to their late spiritual father. Meletius was like the sound
root which though invisible proved its strength by the vigour of
its fruit. When he had returned from his first banishment the whole
Christian population had streamed forth to meet him. Happy those who
succeeded in clasping his feet, kissing his hand, hearing his voice.
Others who beheld him only at a distance felt that they too had
obtained a blessing from the mere sight. A kind of spiritual glory
emanated from his holy person, even as the shadows of St. Peter and St.
John had healed the sick on whom they fell. “Let us all, rulers and
ruled, men and women, old and young, free men and slaves, offer prayer,
taking the blessed Meletius into partnership with this our prayer
(since he has more confidence now in offering prayer, and entertains a
warmer affection towards us), that our love may be increased and that
as now we stand beside his shrine, so one day we may all be permitted
to approach his resting-place in the other world.”
The discourses of Chrysostom against Arians and Jews fall within the
first year of his priesthood.[214] They are among the finest of his
productions, and deserve perusal on account of their intrinsic merit
no less than of the important points of doctrine with which they
are concerned. Antioch, indeed, may in some sort be regarded as the
cradle of Arianism. Paul of Samosata, who was deposed from the see of
Antioch in A.D. 272, advocated doctrines of a Sabellian character, but
that sophistical dialectical school of thought of which the Arians
were the most conspicuous representatives may be traced to him. His
original calling had been that of a sophist, and he was therefore by
training more fitted to attack established doctrines than to build up
a definite system of his own. Hence it is not surprising that, though
his own tendency was to Sabellian opinions, Lucian, his intimate
friend and fellow-countryman, held doctrines diametrically opposite,
or what were afterwards called Arian.[215] Lucian, when presbyter at
Antioch, was the teacher of Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, of Leontius,
the Arian Bishop of Antioch, and perhaps also of Arius himself.[216]
Aëtius, and his pupil Eunomius, originators of the most extreme and
undisguised form of Arianism, resided in the beginning of their career
at Antioch. Eunomius, in fact, was the founder of a sect which was
called Eunomian after him; or sometimes Anomœan, because it denied not
only equality but even similarity (ὁμοιότης) between the Father and
the Son in the Holy Trinity. It was the most materialistic phase which
Arianism developed. Mystery was to be eliminated from revelation as
much as possible, sacramental grace was little recognised, asceticism
disparaged. Adherents of this school seem to have existed still in
some force at Antioch. A system marked by so much of cold intellectual
pride was especially repugnant to the fervid and humble faith of
Chrysostom. Yet in his assaults upon it he was neither precipitate nor
harsh. In his first homily “On the incomprehensible Nature of God,” he
says that, having observed several persons who were infected by this
heresy listening to his discourses, he had abstained from attacking
their errors, wishing to gain a firmer hold upon their interest before
engaging with them in controversy. But having been invited by them to
undertake the contest, he could not decline it, but would endeavour to
conduct it in a spirit of gentleness and love, since “the servant of
the Lord must not strive, but be gentle towards” all, as well as “apt
to teach.” He urges all disputants to remember our Lord’s answer when
He was buffeted, “If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but
if well, why smitest thou me?”[217]
He dilates on the arrogance of the Anomœans in pretending to understand
and to define the exact nature of God. “Professing themselves wise
they only discovered their folly. Imperfect knowledge on so profound a
subject was an inevitable part of the imperfection of our human state.
The condition of our present knowledge was this: we know many things
_about_ God, but we do not know _how_ they are or take place. For
example, we may know that He is everywhere and without beginning or
end, but _how_ He is thus, we know not. We know that He begat the Son,
and that the Holy Spirit proceeded from Him, but _how_ these things
can be we are unable to tell. This is analogous to our knowledge of
many things which are called natural. We eat various kinds of food, but
_how_ they nourish us and are transmuted into the several humours of
the body we do not understand.”[218]
“Again, if the wisest and holiest men have confessed themselves
incompetent to fathom the _purposes_ and _dispensations_ of God, how
far more inscrutable must His _essence_ be! If David exclaims ‘Such
knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me, I cannot attain unto
it;’ and St. Paul, ‘Oh the depth of the riches and wisdom of God! how
unsearchable are His judgments, how untraceable His ways!’ if the very
angels do not presume to discuss the nature of God, but humbly adore
Him with veiled faces, crying ‘Holy, Holy, Holy,’ how monstrous is the
conceit and irreverence of those who curiously investigate and pretend
to define the exact nature of the Godhead!”[219]
He proceeds to dwell upon the littleness and feebleness of man, as
contrasted with the amazing and boundless power of God. The Eunomians
maintained that man could know the nature of God as much as God Himself
knew it. “What mad presumption was this! The Prophets exhaust all
available metaphors to express the insignificance of man as compared
with God. Men are ‘dust and ashes,’ ‘grass,’ and the ‘flower of
grass,’ ‘a vapour,’ ‘a shadow.’ Inanimate creation acknowledges the
irresistible supremacy of His power; ‘if He do but touch the hills they
shall smoke,’ ‘He shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars
thereof tremble’ (Job ix. 6).” “Seest thou not yon sky, how beautiful
it is, how vast, spangled with what a choir of stars? Five thousand
years and more has it stood, yet length of time has left no mark of
old age upon it: like a youthful vigorous body it retains the beauty
with which it was endowed at the beginning. This beautiful, this vast,
this starry, this ancient firmament, was made by that God into whose
nature you curiously pry, was made with as much ease as a man might for
pastime construct a hovel: ‘He established the sky like a roof, and
stretched it out like a tent over the earth’ (Isa. xl. 22). The solid,
durable earth He made, and all the nations of the world, even as far
as the British Isles, are but as a drop in a bucket; and shall man, who
is but an infinitesimal part of this drop, presume to inquire into the
nature of Him who made all these forces and whom they obey?”[220] “God
dwells in the light which no man can approach unto. If the light which
surrounds Him be inaccessible, how much more God Himself who is within
it? St. Paul rebukes those who presume to question the dispensation of
God. ‘Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall
the thing formed say unto him that formed it, Why hast thou made me
thus?’ How much more, then, would he have reproved dogmatic assumptions
respecting the nature of the great Dispenser?[221] The declaration
of St. John, that no man had seen God at any time, might appear at
variance with the descriptions in the prophets of visions of the Deity.
As: ‘I saw the Lord sitting on His throne, high and lifted up’ (Isa.
vi. 1). ‘I saw the Lord standing above the altar’ (Amos ix. 1). ‘I
beheld till the thrones were cast down, and the Ancient of days did
sit, whose garment was white as snow,’ etc. (Dan. vii. 9). But the very
variety of forms under which God is said to have appeared proves that
these manifestations were merely condescensions to the weakness of
human nature, which requires something that the eye can see and the ear
can hear. They were only manifestations of the Deity adapted to man’s
capacity; not the Divine Nature itself, which is simple, incomposite,
devoid of shape. So also, when it is said of God the Son that He is
‘in the bosom of the Father,’ when He is described as standing, or
sitting, on the right hand of God, these expressions must not be
interpreted in too material a sense; they are expressions accommodated
to our understandings, to convey an idea of such an intimate union and
equality between the two Persons as is in itself incomprehensible.”[222]
And this leads him on to consider the second error of the Arians—their
denial of absolute equality between the three Persons in the Godhead.
His arguments are based, as usual, entirely on an appeal to Holy
Scripture. He makes a skilful selection and combination of texts to
prove his point: that the titles “God” and “Lord” are common to the
first two Persons in the Trinity—the names Father and Son being added
merely to distinguish the Personality. Had the Father alone been God,
then it would have been superfluous to add the name Father at all:
“there is one God” would have been sufficient. But, as it was, the
titles “God” and “Lord” were applied to both Persons to prove their
equality in respect of Godhead. That the appellation of Lord no way
indicated inferiority was plain, because it was frequently applied to
the Father. “The Lord our God is one Lord,” Exod. xx. 2. “Great is our
Lord, and great is his power,” Ps. cxlvii. 5. On the other hand, Christ
is frequently entitled _God_, e.g. “Immanuel—_God_ with us.” “Christ
according to the flesh, who is over all, _God_ blessed for ever.” In
some instances the Father and the Son are both called Lord, or both
God, in the _same_ passage; as, for example, “The Lord said unto my
Lord, ... Thy throne, O God (the Son), is for ever and ever; ...
wherefore God (the Father), even thy God, hath anointed thee with the
oil of gladness,” etc.[223]
The reason why Christ sometimes acted and spoke in a manner which
implied human infirmity and inferiority to the Father was twofold:
First, that men might be convinced that He did really, substantially,
exist in the truth of our human nature; that He was not a mere
phantom—the error of Marcion, Manes, and Valentinus—an error which
would have been still more prevalent had He not so clearly manifested
the reality of his humanity. On the other hand, He was reserved and
cautious in declaring the highest mystery—his divine union and
equality with the Father—out of condescension to the weakness of man’s
intellect, which recoiled from the more recondite mysteries. When He
told them that “Abraham rejoiced to see his day,” that “before Abraham
was He was,” “that the bread from heaven was his flesh, which He would
give for the life of the world,” that “hereafter they should see the
Son of Man coming in the clouds,” they were invariably offended. But,
on the contrary, He was chiefly accepted when He spoke words implying
more humiliation—for example, “I can of my own self do nothing, but as
my Father taught me, even so I speak.” “As He spake these words,” we
are told, “many believed on Him.”[224]
Two other reasons might be assigned for this language of
self-abasement. One was, that He came to teach us humility,—“Learn of
me, for I am meek and lowly of heart.” He “came not to be ministered
unto but to minister.” He who bids others be lowly must first and
pre-eminently be lowly himself. Therefore He performed such acts
as washing his disciples’ feet; and the Incarnation itself was no
sign, as the Arian maintained, of inferiority, but only the highest
expression of that great principle of self-sacrificing love which He
came to teach. Lastly, by such language He directs our minds to the
apprehension of a clear distinction between the Persons in the Godhead.
If his sayings about Himself had all been of the same type as “I and my
Father are one,” the Sabellian error of confounding the Persons would
have become yet more prevalent than it was. Thus, we find throughout
our Lord’s life, in his acts and language, a careful mixture and
variation of character in order to present the two elements—the human
and divine—in equal proportions. He predicts his own sufferings and
death, yet quickly afterwards He prays the Father that He might be, if
possible, spared undergoing them. In the first act is pure divinity;
in the second, humanity shrinking from that pain which is abhorrent to
human nature.[225]
This very fact, however, of our Lord’s praying, was laid hold of by
the Arians to prove the inferiority of his nature. This argument
Chrysostom meets in Homilies IX. and X. The raising of Lazarus had been
read in the Gospel for the day. “I perceive,” he says, “that many of
the Jews and heretics will find an excuse, in the prayer offered by
Christ before performing this miracle, to impugn his power, and say
He could not have done it without the Father’s assistance.” But this
fell to the ground, because on most other occasions our Lord wrought
his miracles without any prayer at all. To the dead maiden he simply
said, “Talitha cumi,” and she arose; the woman with an issue of blood
was healed without any word or touch from Him. In the case of Lazarus
He prayed, as He Himself declared, for the sake of the people, that
they might perceive that God heard his prayers—that there was a perfect
unanimity between the Father and the Son. Martha, in fact, had asked
for a prayer—“I know whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give it
thee;” therefore He prayed; just as, when the centurion said, “Speak
the word only,” He spake the word and the servant was healed. If He had
needed help He would have invoked it before all his miracles. In fact
there was no kind of sovereign power which He hesitated to exercise.
“Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee” ... “the Son of man
hath power on earth to forgive sins;”—to an evil spirit, “_I_ charge
thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him;” ... “to them of
old it was said, Thou shalt not kill; but _I_ say, whosoever is angry
with his brother without a cause,” etc. He represents Himself as saying
on the final day, “Come, ye blessed;” or “Depart, ye cursed.” Thus He
claims authority to absolve, to judge, to legislate.
Homilies XI. and XII., against the Anomœans, were delivered some
ten years later at Constantinople, but as they contain no special
references to the events of that time, the continuity of this subject
may be maintained by extracting from them the argument there employed
to prove the equality of the Son with the Father. It is based on the
passage, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” (St. John v. 17); by
which our Saviour justified Himself from the accusation of breaking the
Sabbath when He healed the paralytic. The words “My Father worketh,”
Chrysostom observes, refer to the daily operations of God’s providence,
by which he sustains in being those things which he commanded into
existence.
This upholding energy, our Lord declares, is active at all times and on
all days alike; and if it were not, the fabric of the universe would
fall to pieces. He claims a similar right to providential rule, which
implies equality with the Father. “My Father worketh, _and I_ work.” If
the Son had been inferior, such a method of justifying Himself would
only have added force to the charges of his enemies. If a subject of
the Emperor were to put on the imperial diadem and purple, it would be
no excuse to say that he wore them _because_ the Emperor wore them—“the
Emperor wears them, _and I_ wear them;”—on the contrary, it would
augment the offensiveness of his presumption and arrogance. If Christ
were not equal with the Father, it was the height of presumption to use
those words, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.”
In dealing with such lengthy homilies, it has been impossible to do
more than give specimens in a very condensed form of the main lines
of argument which Chrysostom adopts. They vary greatly in value; but
two points cannot fail to arrest the notice of any one who reads these
homilies through:—First, the profound acquaintance of their author
with Holy Scripture; extending apparently with equal force to every
part of the sacred volume. Old and New Testament and Apocrypha are
almost equally employed for argument, illustration, adornment; he is at
home everywhere. Secondly, upon Scripture all his arguments are based:
in none of his controversial homilies does Chrysostom take his stand
upon the platform of existing tradition, or rely on the authority of
the Church alone; “to the law and to the testimony” is always the way
with him. And this was a test at that time universally accepted. The
dispute with the most rationalistic and critical Arians seems never to
have turned on the _authority_, but only on the _interpretation_ of
Scripture. Scripture is appealed to as the supreme court for trying all
their differences; the only question was, as to the exact meaning of
its decisions.
Again, we cannot fail to be struck by the ease and rapidity with which
he glances off from the most controversial and theological parts of his
discourse to practical reproof and exhortation. Nothing provoked him
more than to see the bulk of that large concourse of people, who had
been listening with profound attention to his address, leave the church
just as the celebration of the Eucharist was about to commence. “Deeply
do I groan to perceive that when your fellow-servant is speaking,
great is your earnestness, strained your attention, you crowd one upon
another, and stay till the very end; but that, when Christ is about
to appear in the holy mysteries, the church is empty and deserted....
If my words had been laid up in your hearts they would have kept you
here, and brought you to the celebration of these most solemn mysteries
with greater piety; but as it is, my speech seems as fruitless as
the performance of a lute-player, for as soon as I have finished you
depart. Away with the frigid excuse of many: I can say prayers at
home, but I cannot at home hear homilies and doctrine. Thou deceivest
thyself, O man; you may indeed pray at home, but it is impossible to
pray _in the same manner_ as at church, where there is so large an
assembly of your spiritual fathers, and the cry of the worshippers
is sent up with one accord; where there is unanimity and concert in
prayer; and where the priests preside, that the weaker supplications
of the multitude being supported by theirs, which are more powerful,
may ascend together with these to heaven. First prayer, then discourse;
so say the Apostles—“But we will give ourselves to _prayer and_ to the
ministry of the word.”[226]
Again, as frequently in other discourses, he reproves the congregation
for testifying their admiration of his words by applause. “You praise
what I have said, you receive my exhortation with tumults of applause;
but show your approbation by obedience; that is the praise which I
seek, the applause which comes through deeds.”[227]
His hearers, in fact, were so closely packed, and so much absorbed in
listening to his discourse, that pickpockets often practised on them
with some success. Chrysostom advises them, therefore, to bring no
money or ornaments about their persons to church. It was a device of
the devil, who hoped by means of this annoyance to chill their zeal
in attending the services, just as he stripped Job of everything, not
merely to make him poor but to rob him if possible of his piety.[228]
But the most inveterate enemy with which Chrysostom had to contend
was the circus. Against this he declaims with all the vehemence of
Evangelical invectives against horse-racing in modern times. The
indomitable passion for the chariot-races, and the silly eagerness
displayed about them by the inhabitants of Rome, Constantinople, and
Antioch, are among the most remarkable symptoms of the depraved state
of society under the later Empire. The whole populace was divided
into factions distinguished by the different colours adopted by the
charioteers, of which green and blue were the two chief favourites.
The animosity, the sanguinary tumults, the superstitions,[229]
folly, violence of every kind, which were mixed up with these popular
amusements, well deserved the unsparing severity with which they were
lashed by the great preacher.
A few specimens shall be collected here from other homilies, as well as
from those immediately under consideration.
“Again we have the horse-races; again our assembly is thinned. There
were many indeed whose absence he little regretted: they were to
the faithful amongst the congregation only as leaves to fruit.[230]
Sometimes, however, the church was deserted by those of whom he had
expected more fidelity. He felt disheartened, like a sower who had
scattered good seed plentifully, but with no adequate result. Gladly
and eagerly would he continue his exertions could he see any fruit of
his labours; but when, forgetful of all his exhortations and warnings,
and solemn remindings of the terrible doom, the unquenchable fire,
the undying worm, they again abandoned themselves to the diabolical
exhibitions of the race-course, with what heart could he return
to the unthankful task? They manifested, indeed, by applause, the
pleasure with which they heard his words, and then they hurried off
to the circus, and, sitting side by side with Jew or Pagan, they
applauded with a kind of frenzied eagerness the efforts of the several
charioteers; they rushed tumultuously along, jostling one another, and
shouting, ‘that horse didn’t run fairly,’ ‘that was tripped up and
fell,’ and the like.[231] Various excuses were pleaded for absence
from church—the exigencies of business, poverty, ill health, lameness;
but these impediments never prevented attendance at the Hippodrome.
In the church the chief places even were not always all occupied, but
_there_ old and young, rich and poor, crowded every available space
for standing or sitting; pushing, and squeezing, and trampling on
one another’s feet, while the sun poured down on their heads: yet
they appeared thoroughly to enjoy themselves, in spite of all these
discomforts; while in the church the length of the sermon, or the heat,
or the crowd, were perpetual subjects of complaint.”[232]
Such are a few illustrations of one, but perhaps the most notable,
form among many in which the impulsiveness and frivolity of the people
of Antioch were displayed. “The building which the preacher had so
laboriously and industriously reared in the hearts of his disciples was
thus cruelly dashed down and levelled to the very ground by a few hours
of dissolving pleasure and iniquitous frivolity.”[233]
Truly indeed might the lamentation of the prophet over the evanescent
piety of Ephraim and Judah have been applied to these people: “Your
goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth away”
(Hos. vi. 4).