John Chrysostom, Homily I on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man
Before you go ahead with this reading, just a few words are in order about who John Chrysostom was and about this particular text.
Those who are interested in a nice overview of John Chrysostom’s life can look at the appropriate entry in the Catholic encyclopedia:
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/08452b.htm
Briefly, St. John “of the Golden Mouth” (Chrysostomos, as he later became known) was born in the city of Antioch in or around the year 349 A.D. That city, as you’ll recall, was the place, according to the Acts of the Apostles, where followers of Jesus were first called “Christians” (Christianoi in Greek). It was also the place Paul and Barnabas started out from on their missionary journeys. By Chrysostom’s time, it was still an extremely important Christian city, second in size only to Constantinople in the east, where John was eventually to become archbishop.
John’s life tends to be divided up by his biographers as follows:
* Birth and early classical education, during which time he was baptized and became a lector in the Church. (“Lector” at that time was an official position, not the sort of “run up and read” sort of thing we have now.)
* Two years spent as a hermit in the desert around Antioch, a life which he had to leave because he became seriously ill.
* Priesthood and service in Antioch; and finally:
* Archbishop of Constantinople. He died in exile from that city, however, in the year 407.
One thing you should know about the Fathers is that they never produced a “moral treatise” in our modern sense of the word. That is to say, they never produced a separate treatise on the principles of ethics, such as is done by philosophers and moral theologians all the time today. The “moral treatises” of the Fathers (such as the one we are reading today) were not delivered as an abstract consideration of general moral principles, but as a specific pastoral application of the Gospel to the business of actual life. In modern theology, we often have a division between “pastoral theology” and “moral theology.” Let me suggest that no such division existed in the world of the fathers. The Fathers were usually bishops, and as bishops, they were primarily concerned with the care of their flock. Their moral guidance was never abstract; it was always intimate and practical. It was about living rightly in view of the demands of the Gospel. And it was always very much related to the wisdom of Scripture.
Make no mistake, everything the Fathers do is essentially both pastoral and doctrinal. Chrysostom’s moral treatise is pastoral: it is about how to act rightly. And yet, notice that, for Chrysostom and the other Fathers of the Church, the ways we act are determined by, and should be in accord, with what we believe. Thus if we believe the wrong things, we may well act in wrong ways. If our vision is not directed to the highest things, and if our hope is based on merely earthly success, then we will often fail to act rightly. Our faith must be true to the Gospel preaching of Christ, our hope must be based on the promises of Christ, and that faith and hope must then issue forth in acts of righteousness and charity.
With that, let’s get to our reading from John Chrysostom. Today’s reading is the first in a series of seven homilies that Chrysostom gave on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. For those of you who aren’t acquainted with this parable, or need to get reacquainted, please turn to Luke 16:19-31 and read it. St. John’s first homily was delivered on the 2nd of January, probably in the year 388 or 389. For our purposes, the date is not as significant as the day. Note the day: the 2nd of January. What would people have been doing on the previous day, the 1st of January? Much like in our own time, when there is much drinking and drunkenness that happens to celebrate the New Year, so too in the ancient world as well, this date would have been at the end of their biggest festival celebration: the Saturnalia. The Saturnalia was the most popular holiday of the Roman year. The poet Catullus described it as “the best of days,” while the Stoic philosopher Seneca complained that during that time the “whole mob has let itself go in pleasures” (Epistles, XVIII.3). Pliny the Younger suggests that he would simply retreat to his room for some peace while the rest of the household partied (Epistles, II.17.24).
As in the modern world, so too in the ancient, there were church services on the 1st of the month to — how shall we put it? — attempt to dissuade Christians from partaking in too much revelry of the sort so many others seem to be engaged in. Thus when Chrysostom begins his homily, he says this:
Yesterday, on the festival of Satan, you celebrated a spiritual feast, receiving with all favor the word we addressed to you; spending a great portion of the day in thus drinking in that rapture which is full of sobriety, and rejoicing in company with St Paul. In this way you gained a twofold benefit, since you were both separate from the disorderly throng of feasters, and rejoiced in a spiritual and decorous manner. You also partook of that cup, not overflowing with unmixed wine, but filled with spiritual instruction. While others were following the festive companies of the evil one, you, by your presence in this place, prepared yourselves as instruments of spiritual music, and surrendered your souls to the Divine Spirit that He might influence them, and breathe His own grace into your hearts. Thus you gave forth a melody of perfect harmony, pleasing not only to men but also to the heavenly powers. Let us, therefore, today, take up arms against inebriety, and expose the folly of a drunken and dissolute life.
When Chrysostom calls it “the festival of Satan,” he is using that term largely metaphorically. It was the festival of Saturn, however, so he also may be making a subtle play on words as well: on the day of “Saturn,” to what extent were they not acting as though they were celebrating “Satan”? On that day, whereas everyone else was out partying, his congregation was in church at mass, so they celebrated, not a physical feast, but a “spiritual feast.” Instead of getting drunk, they, “full of sobriety,” drunk-in not wine, but the wisdom of the Scriptural readings (and John’s homilies on it) from St. Paul. Instead of getting drunk on “unmixed wine” (wine unmixed with water, to cut its potency, a practice the poet Catullus famously condemns in one of his poems), they were drinking from another cup: the Word of God in the Scriptures and present in the Eucharist (where the wine, as you may recall, is mixed with water). While others were out playing loud music in the public square (undoubtedly disturbing more contemplative souls like Seneca and Pliny), Chrysostom’s congregants were making themselves “instruments of spiritual music.” While others were out “tooting their own horns” (so to speak), Chrysostom’s congregants were perfecting themselves as an instrument, so that the breath of God, the Holy Spirit, might blow through them beautifully with his own sacred music. It is, after all, says St. Paul, by the gift (gratia in Latin, thus “grace”) of the Holy Spirit by which “charity is spread abroad in our hearts.” When men are inspired by this Spirit, they do not make a disorderly and riotous mob, in which all the minds of the individuals are given over to the crowd; rather they become a “symphony” of different voices, all working together in “perfect harmony,” pleasing to both God and man.
This context is not unimportant for appreciating the rest of the homily. Think about it: Everyone else was out drinking and going to lavish parties and all the rest. Or were they? Was it really “everyone”? Or was it more likely just the rich: the people who could afford to take off a week of work and pay for day after day of lavish partying? I am often struck how often people (particularly young people) seem to forget that a “bohemian” lifestyle is really the product of a “bourgeois” bank account. The sort of “celebration of life” one enjoys at Easter or at the birth of a new child is one thing; the sort of partying so many people do that seems more interested in “forgetting one’s life” than embracing or affirming it, is quite another. (On this topic, I recommend Josef Pieper’s two books: Leisure, the Basis of Culture and In Tune with the World: A Theory of Festivity.) How much of the money spent on “partying” that goes on among the bohemian-bourgeois class is money that really ought to have been spent on the poor? I bid you to keep that in mind as you read Chrysostom’s text. How many people going to their lavish parties were, in their own way, “stepping over” the Lazarus on their own doorstep? In this way, Chrysostom does what a great homilist is supposed to do. He takes the text of the Scriptures, and he brings it right down to the doorstep of the faithful in his congregation. His isn’t an abstract appeal to “be nice” or “help the poor”; his is a real call to personal conversion and a challenge to the settled ways of doing things that characterized the culture of his time. When we read it, we should reflect on the ways in which our culture is not so very different from that of late antique Rome: an empire in decline with obvious problems that most people were intent on avoiding thinking about. Chrysostom serves in his time as the biblical prophet Amos did in the Old Testament (about whom we’ll be reading more in due time), proclaiming God’s justice to a corrupt generation. This is what great preaching sounds like. Now to the text:
Homily I: On Lazarus and the Rich Man
1.Yesterday, on the festival of Satan, ye celebrated a spiritual feast, receiving with all favour the word we addressed to you; spending a great portion of the day in thus drinking in that rapture which is full of sobriety, and rejoicing in company with St Paul. In this way ye gained a twofold benefit, since ye were both separate from the disorderly throng of feasters, and rejoiced in a spiritual and decorous manner. Ye also partook of that cup, not overflowing with unmixed wine, but filled with spiritual instruction. While others were following the festive companies of the evil one, ye, by your presence in this place, prepared yourselves as instruments of spiritual music, and surrendered your souls to the Divine Spirit that He might influence them, and breathe His own grace into your hearts. Thus ye gave forth a melody of perfect harmony, pleasing not only to men but also to the heavenly powers.
Let us, therefore, to-day, take up arms against inebriety, and expose the folly of a drunken and dissolute life. Let us oppose those who live in intemperance; not that we may shame them, but that we may put them beyond the reach of shame; not that we may blame them, but reform them; not that we may hold them up to contempt, but that we may turn them from all dishonourable exposure, and snatch them from the grasp of the tempter. For he who lives daily in excess of wine and luxury and gluttony is under the very tyranny of the devil. And oh that something better may result from our words! Should they, however, continue in the same course after our warning, we shall not on that account cease from giving right counsel. For the springs, even if no one drink of them, continue to flow; and fountains, though no one should use their water, still burst forth; and rivers, though no man profit by them, still run on. So then, also, it is right that the preacher, even if no one attend to his voice, should fulfil all his duty.
For also in His love to man, a law is given by God to those who are entrusted with the ministry of the word, never to cease to discharge the duties of their office nor to be silent, whether the people have regard to their voice, or whether they neglect it. Jeremiah, therefore, having declared many threatenings to the Jews and warnings of future evils, was mocked by those who heard his voice, and was ridiculed all the day long. From human infirmity, feeling unable to endure scoffs and reviling, he at one time endeavoured to escape from his ministry. Hear him speak concerning this when he says: "I am in derision daily; then I said, I will not make mention of Him, nor speak any more in the name of the Lord. But His word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay," (Jer. xx. 7, 9.) This it is which he says;---- "I was desirous to escape from prophesying, since the Jews did not listen to me; and all the while I was desiring this, the influence of the Holy Spirit penetrated like fire into my inmost soul, consuming all my inward parts and my bones, and devouring me, so that I could not endure the burning." If, therefore, he, when he was laughed at and derided each day; when he desired to be silent, underwent such punishment; of what forgiveness can we be worthy, who never at any time are treated thus, if we faint on account of the slowness of some, and cease from instructing them, and especially when there are so many who are attentive!
2.I do not say these things to console or to comfort myself, for I have made up my mind, as long as I breathe, and as long as it shall seem good to God that I remain in this present life, to fulfil this ministry, and, whether any one attends or not, to do the work allotted to me. But since there are some who weaken the hands of many, and who, besides that they bring forward nothing useful for our present life, and relax the zeal of others, by derision and ridicule, saying: "Cease counselling; leave off warning; they do not attend to you: you have no fellow-feeling with them;"----since there are those who say such things,----purposing to expel this wicked and morose idea, this satanic counsel, from the minds of many, I address you thus at length. I know that such things were said even yesterday by many who, when they saw certain people spending time in taverns, said, laughing and deriding: "Are these fully persuaded? These are they who never enter a tavern! Have they all arrived at wisdom?" What dost thou say, O man? Is it this that we undertook to do, to enclose all in the net in one day? For if ten only were persuaded----if only five,----if even one,----is not this sufficient to console us? For my part I can even go beyond this. Suppose that none were persuaded by our words, although it is impossible that the word spoken to so many hearers can be fruitless----suppose, however, even this,----still the word would not be without profit.